False Trust
by aintsettlin
Summary: Open relationships? Cheating? Controversial stuff. Callie/Arizona, but mostly Arizona/Lauren.
1. Chapter 1

In all of my thirty years, I've never been the kind of person to have thoughts and opinions that other people agree with. I'm the kind of person that doesn't exactly go with the norm, the average belief system. For example, I've never believed in having one true love, or in having a soul mate. I believe that certain people are more suited for one another than others, and that any relationship can be successful if enough hard work is put into it. I don't believe in fate or destiny, but rather that we can make our own dreams come true by never giving up, and always striving to make our goals a reality. So when I met Callie, my Calliope, I didn't think it was divine intervention or destiny knocking on my door. When I saw her, I simply knew that I liked what I saw, and if I wanted to get to know her better, it was only up to me to make it happen.

The truth of the matter is, before meeting Callie, or becoming involved with her, I had a life that she never knew about. In fact, she still doesn't know about it. Before dating Callie, I was in a slew of relationships, but never once was I "faithful." Now, I use that word generously. When people think of being faithful to their partner, it's normally pretty cut and dry: don't think of being with other people, and don't do anything physical with another person. For me however, being faithful is very different, and to this day, Callie still doesn't know that I feel this way.

In my opinion, being faithful is in a whole different ballpark. My way of looking at things is a bit more complicated. I believe that being faithful to one person means putting that person above everyone else, caring about their every need and desire first and foremost, but also being able to enjoy other people in life at the same time. To elaborate, I think it's okay to love one person entirely, with everything you have, and yet still be drawn to other people in more of a like versus love capacity.

Before Callie, I dated Joanne, Colleen, Angie, Nancy, and Jen. They were all pretty serious relationships, and I cared about each of them in different ways. But, even while being with them, I was never sexually exclusive, and none of them were aware of that. I didn't feel guilty about my actions though, as some would assume I might. The reality of my situations simply involved me loving (sometimes only liking) my girlfriend of the moment, and still finding physical enjoyment with other women during the same period of time. I never slept with a woman on the side because I was unhappy with my girlfriend, or because I cared about her less. In fact, it was very much the opposite.

I found myself sleeping with women on the side when I was actually very happy with Joanne, Colleen, etc. I loved life so much, that I felt like nothing could go wrong, and I could have it all. The reason I didn't open up to my girlfriends about my activities outside of our relationship, was because I knew what their opinion would be before I even spoke up. So, what was the point in talking about it? I could enjoy a fun, loving relationship, while having some awesome physical experiences outside of the relationship at the same time. It was a win-win for me.

On the other hand, some people might judge my "extracurricular" activities with a response such as, 'Don't you think your girlfriend would be hurt if they knew what you were doing with other women?' Of course I do, absolutely. And that's why, in the end, I never tell my partner what I'm doing outside of our relationship, because it will only hurt them. But, let's hold up a minute. Some might ask, 'What if the situation was turned around and your partner was sleeping with someone else other than you, would you feel differently then?' Well, that answer is complicated.

Let's talk briefly about the concept of open relationships. Callie and I are not in an open relationship, but I think it's something that should still be discussed, because it partially applies to my concealed activities. The topic has such a stigma surrounding it, and anyone who openly admits to being in such a relationship is often viewed negatively. Whether or not an open relationship is good, bad, works, or doesn't work, there are four different ways open relationships can be categorized: 1) It is morally wrong, period. 2) It can work. 3) It can't work. 4) It can work, but it's dangerous territory.

Personally, when I'm in a relationship with a woman, I treat her right. I put her needs first and I always care for her the way a partner should be cared for. That's why, when I sleep with a woman on the side, I know it's okay, simply because 'it's just sex.' I'm sure everyone has heard that term before, and it's controversial to bring up. But, it's true. I can completely and utterly love my partner, and enjoy sex with someone else at the same time. The reason why, is because I can separate loving sex from just sex. The problem with this is that I'm not always so confident my partner can do the same.

Let's take Colleen for example. If she's in a relationship with someone, she puts her whole heart into it. So, needless to say, if she starts to sleep with someone on the outside of her very emotional relationship, then it's highly likely she will become emotional with the woman on the outside as well. For me, it's not like that. I can separate the loving sex with my girlfriend from the emotionless sex of an outsider. Why would someone want emotionless sex, you might ask? Hell, at some point in life, everyone either wants it or has it. Emotionless sex 100% of the time is not enjoyable, of course, but every once in a while, it can be perfect. So, back to the question: would I be hurt if my partner was sleeping with someone other than me? The answer to that is entirely dependent upon whether or not my girlfriend is able to separate loving sex from non-loving sex. If she can separate the two, then no, I would not be hurt by her actions. If it was Colleen though, sleeping with a woman other than me, I know for a fact that she would have intense feelings for them, and therefore it would definitely hurt. Does that make sense?

For me, the categories an open relationship can be broken into are actually pretty simple. Take number one for example. It is morally wrong. Eh, I don't agree with this, but I can understand where other people would. Oftentimes, religion is brought into the discussion, and that plays a huge morality role. Let's look at number two. It can work. Yes, I believe this, but in order for it to work, both individuals must know how to separate love from like, emotion from non-emotion. To find two people capable of doing this is very difficult. Number three. It can't work. Many people believe this, regardless of morality. People often believe open relationships are complicated and difficult to manage, especially when jealousy is brought into the picture. I definitely agree with that; jealousy simply cannot be brought into an open relationship or it is doomed from the get go.

And lastly, number four. It can work, but it's dangerous territory. This is the most interesting category. I didn't even think of this until recently, until I realized how dangerous an open relationship really can be. You see, this is what it all comes down to, in the end. I can be in a relationship, and wholeheartedly trust myself and my partner of being able to separate loving, committed sex from random, enjoyable, dismissive sex. Despite the trust I may have however, I can never quite prepare myself for the possible disruption that can come from a distinctly unique individual entering the life of either myself, or my partner. I can never stop my partner from falling out of love with me, and into love with another person, an outside person. And likewise, my partner cannot stop the same thing from happening to me.

Allowing an open relationship to become part of your life is most definitely dangerous, like playing with fire. If you allow your partner to participate outside of the boundaries of your relationship, yes, it can work. But, you must never dismiss the possibility that in allowing this, you are allowing your partner to see what else is out there, other than you. You may feel confident in your partner's love, in her intense devotion for you, and yet, you must never lose sight of the possibility that she might see someone else and become more invested in them, than in you.

Now the ultimate question is brought up: have I been 'faithful' to Callie? In my opinion, I have been both emotionally and sexually faithful to Callie. I have never loved or cared about another person in the way that I care about her. I have never enjoyed such passion and intensity in my sexual life as I have with her. And therefore, I believe I have been entirely faithful to Calliope much in the same way that I have been faithful to all of the women I've dated. Instead of mentioning my faithfulness however, if one were to ask me if I have instead been sexually exclusive to Callie, then my answer would be no.

Over the months and years of our relationship, I have most definitely found satisfaction in the sexual experiences of other women. I must clarify however, that although the experiences were all amazing, they were never the earth-shattering experiences I had with Callie. For me, earth-shattering sex is not just about the heat and the excitement, but also about the love and adoration melded with the electricity. In saying this, it's important to mention that I don't always want earth-shattering sex. Sometimes, I crave sex that involves nothing but attraction, tension, and the thrill of the unknown. That type of sex can only be experienced with someone other than your committed, loving partner.

When Callie and I started dating, I knew immediately that our connection was much stronger than my prior relationships. I was right, as our weeks together turned into months and then years. Nonetheless, I never bound myself inside the confines of sexual exclusivity. The first time I slept with someone other than Callie, while we were dating, was right around the time that Callie told me she considered me to be her girlfriend, and not just her casual friend-with-benefits. This excited me and made me feel alive. The very next night, I'd gone to a nearby bar, and engaged in a hot one-night stand. Really, it wasn't even a one-night stand, because it lasted for about an hour. We'd caught each other's gaze from across the room, and didn't waste time with nervousness and getting to know one another. It was a quick, satisfying encounter in the darkness outside the building, against her car. I didn't even catch her name, and I didn't tell her mine either. I had no issues or qualms with my actions, because I was left feeling fulfilled and content. I then went straight to Callie's apartment to experience the other type of sex, the intense-in-a-different-kind-of-way sex, the kind that isn't so fast and exotic. And from that night, all the way until recently, my actions never changed.

It may be hard for some people to understand my behavior, which is why I don't share it with many, but I did share it with one person, ultimately. In time, after becoming friends, and then good friends, I shared my behind-the-scenes activity with Alex Karev. I never would have thought him and I would become friends, but in a way, our personalities mix quite well. He came to trust me, and I came to trust him. The reason I finally opened up to Alex about my women on the side was because I knew he would understand. Alex, much like myself, feels similar about relationships. We both believe that when in a relationship, we treat our partner wonderfully, and still have sloppy sex on the side with random people. We believe that you can have a bit of both worlds, as long as you come home each night with love in your heart for your partner, and your partner alone.

Over the years, Alex has covered for me when I was almost caught in a lie or a predicament I didn't plan for. He didn't like lying for me, especially to Callie, but nevertheless, he always pulled through. And every once in a while, I would cover for him as well, even though his committed relationships were fewer and far between than the bond between Callie and myself.

You see, when playing this 'game' that I play, there are rules I don't allow myself to break. First and foremost: never sleep with someone you or your partner works with. Second: never sleep with a friend, or a friend of a friend, of your partner. Third: don't exchange personal details such as phone numbers, addresses, or jobs. And finally, rule number four: do not become emotional with the outside woman, ever. I know these rules inside and out, without really being consciously aware of them. They come naturally to me, and I know them like the back of my hand.

I trust myself, because I know I would never be foolish enough to sleep with someone Callie knows, or someone Callie's friends know. I also have no trouble keeping my mouth shut, metaphorically, when interacting with another woman. As for rule number four, this is the easiest for me, especially considering how much love I've always had for Callie. There is no way I would ever start to become emotional with anyone other than her, how could I? She is everything a person could want, and she is utterly perfect. My love for her is deep, intense, and I know, I _know_ it could never come into question - Right?


	2. Chapter 2

I'm awoken by the sound of my alarm, and I quickly sit up in bed. I turn off the irritating sound and look down at Callie, who groans sleepily at having her slumber interrupted. I smile, and admire how gorgeous she looks when lying peacefully in our bed. I place a soft kiss on her cheek and quietly get up. It's just after 5am, and I have to be in for an early surgery by 6.

I creep out of our bedroom and down the hall to check in on Sofia. After peeking in her room and seeing her cute little body still fast asleep, I go back to our bedroom and head to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and hop in the shower. Turning the water up high, I let the hot water flow over me. I close my eyes and wet my hair, simply enjoying the sensation of warmth over my skin, and steam surrounding my body. I hear the bathroom door creak and my eyes flutter open.

Glancing through the glass shower door, I make eye contact with Callie, who grins lazily back at me. Ever so slowly, she rids her body of clothing and walks to the shower. She opens the door and I allow my eyes to travel down the smooth expanse of her caramel skin.

Callie steps into the shower and without a word, she closes the door behind her and quickly connects my body with hers. I capture her lips before she can capture mine, and I moan softly against her mouth. I pull us farther into the shower, allowing the hot water to make its way down both of our bodies, and I savor the feeling of our wet skin sliding together. As Callie's tongue meets mine, I find my hands drifting along her hips, up her stomach, to her delicious breasts. Callie's breasts are, without a doubt, my favorite part of her body.

I slide the heel of my right hand along her left nipple, and my spare hand is left to wander. As I take in Callie's soft whimper against my lips, I use my other hand to grip her neck tightly. I know she loves it when I grip her neck, and I use this as a distraction while I move my thigh in between her legs. As soon as I put pressure on her, exactly where she wants it, Callie breaks from our kiss and gasps quietly into the air. Her eyes are closed, and it's always this second that turns me on the most, when she first feels me exactly where she wants sensation and her body reacts without thinking. I love the expression she makes when her eyes close, her cheeks flush, and her lips part ever so slightly. It's beautiful, and it's hot.

I push my leg roughly against her, and Callie lowers her head, making eye contact with me. Her eyes are hooded, and it turns me on. I grind my thigh against her center and she brings her lips back down to mine. I savor the feeling of her exquisitely supple mouth, and I slowly trace my tongue along her lower lip. The pace of our kiss is much slower than the pace of my thigh as I push just a little bit harder, a little bit higher. Callie breaks away again and takes a small step back, our bodies still touching. I raise my eyebrow at her. I catch Callie's devious grin right before she swiftly turns my body around, so her front is pushed against my back. How I love this position.

Callie wastes no time in taking advantage of our position as she almost roughly shoves me against the cool shower door. She grabs my left breast and doesn't hesitate in gripping me tightly, squeezing my skin, pulling at my nipple, and just in general, drive me crazy. I feel Callie's lips drop down to my neck and I'm vaguely aware of the sound of my moan filling the air. With Callie's luscious lips pressing kisses along my neck, I suddenly feel her right hand quickly slide down my stomach and settle between my thighs.

I wrap my arm around Callie's neck, pulling her mouth down harder onto my skin. In one instant, she slides her talented fingers over my clit briefly, only to rapidly push inside me. I cry out, and feel Callie's teeth sink softly into my shoulder.

In the minutes that follow, I grind my hips forward, matching Callie's rough movements thrust for thrust. My fingernails dig into her skin, and with each mark I make on her, I can feel her teeth doing the same to me. It's incredibly sexy, to know that I can mark this woman, and she can mark me. With my left hand covering Callie's over my breast, I allow my head to fall back and rest against my remarkable wife… my wife who is so close to pushing me over the edge.

Just as I begin to feel the hot tingles spread from my stomach to the rest of my body, I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation. Suddenly, Callie completely stops her hand from moving inside me and I can't help the vulgarity that slips from my mouth as I shift my head to look into her brown eyes.

"Callie, what the fuck?" Despite the harshness of my words, they are hushed amongst the sound of water falling around us. Instead of responding to me, Callie instead throws a smile my way as she pulls her long fingers from my warmth. She seems amused; I am not. I swirl my body to face her and before I can question Callie's motives, she drops swiftly onto her knees in front of me. She doesn't make eye contact with me, or pause to tease me. Very quickly, Callie's mouth is against my clit and this time, the hot skin of my back meets the cool surface of the shower door.

"Shit," I whisper into the steam-filled air. My head hits the glass and my eyes close again as I run my fingers through Callie's wet hair. In seconds, I am back at the precipice once more, and my lovely woman knows it. She pushes her tongue inside me, and then replaces her tongue with her skilled fingers. Her tongue moves up. She knows that the curling of her fingers thrusting inside me, mixed with the sensation of her slick tongue moving against my clit, is exactly what I often crave.

I can feel my skin heat up even more, if that's possible, and my heart beats hard against my chest. I shove my hips forward into Callie's burning mouth, and she gets the hint. Her fingers begin to shove into me a little harder than normal, and I love it. In seconds, I sense my orgasm beginning to hit me. Callie's thrusts are fast as I feel my inner walls clenching around her. The waves hit me and my mouth falls open with one word, one name, falling from my lips.

"Calliope…" I whisper erotically, entirely lost in the moment.

I don't stop grinding against Callie until I finally notice my heart beat slowing down. Callie oh so slowly moves away and slides up my body to stand in front of me. It takes me a moment to force my eyes open, and I adore the look in her eyes: love mixed with desire. I grab her by the hips and pull her against me, our lips meeting in a luxurious kiss. Finally, I break away and whisper into Callie's ear.

"Well good morning," I say, noticing the slight rasp in my voice, proof that my body is still waking up for the day.

"Hey," Callie says simply, a smile gracing her features. As much as I would absolutely love to continue our amazing rendezvous in the shower, I know that I'm probably running late for work. I glance outside the shower and take note of the time on a nearby clock.

"Shit," I say. "I have to get going."

I give Callie another kiss, forcing myself to break away. I quickly rinse my body under the water once more, and take note of Callie stretching her arms high above her head in front of me. Damn, she is gorgeous. I turn the water off and open the shower door. The cooler air from inside the room hits us and I see Callie unintentionally shiver. I move quickly and grab towels from inside the room to wrap around our bodies. But before doing so, I allow my body to fully press up against Callie one more time, relishing the feeling of her breasts meeting mine, hot and wet.

"Why don't you go back to bed, hmm?" I say, sad to move away from her beautiful nakedness, as I dry my body. I notice Callie's eyes drop to my ass while I bend over to dry my legs. I quickly wrap the towel around my chest and move in front of her again.

"It's your day off right?" I ask, and she nods in response. "I should be home early. I promise I'll make this up to you tonight…" I say, placing a soft kiss upon her lips before going to leave the bathroom. Callie only looks back at me, wrapping her own body with a towel.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask, pausing in the doorway. When Callie grins at me, I know she's okay.

"I am so incredibly lucky to have you," she states, direct as ever. I shake my head at her.

"No way Calliope," I throw a wink in her direction and head into our bedroom to get dressed for the day. "I'm the lucky one."

* * *

An hour later, I'm just beginning my surgery, delayed due to the minor pep talk I had to give my patient. Keith, the seven-year-old boy whom I've been treating on and off over the last year, was experiencing an unusual amount of nervousness about this particular surgery. I didn't understand his reasoning, and all he could tell me was that he wasn't ready for it. Keith has undergone many surgeries with me over the past few months, but he was hardly ever nervous about the procedures. In fact, I often found him reassuring his mom and dad about his outcomes, instead of the other way around. After sitting next to him for quite a while, squeezing his shoulder in a comforting gesture, and promising that he would be just fine, Keith finally nodded his head. He gave me a small, brief smile and said, "Okay, I'm ready."

I look over now at the monitor displaying Keith's stats, and feel a bit of confidence in the upcoming surgery. His stats are perfect, his blood pressure is normal, and I know that now is the right time to invade his small body once more. I have high hopes for this little guy; he's going to make it.

"Ten blade," I say, glancing at my scrub nurse. She smiles at me and hands me the instrument. Today is going to be a good day.

* * *

No, today is so not a good day. I cannot believe the outcome of my morning surgery. Keith did not make it. I feel an intense amount of emotion surge through my body at the thought, and struggle to remain upright. I give Keith's mom one final hug before leaving the room. I keep my head down as I walk through the halls and eventually enter my office.

Closing the door behind me, I lean back against the wooden surface and close my eyes. I feel the tears welling up behind my eyelids, and I let them fall silently down my cheeks. My legs finally give way under me as I allow my body to slowly crash onto the floor. I rest my arms on my knees as I lean my head back on the door. My tears flow easily for many minutes.

Clutched in my right hand is a piece of paper, a drawing that Keith's mother gave me when I told her the bad news. Keith had drawn a picture with coloring crayons only minutes before I came to convince him to have the surgery. I force my eyes open and look down at the colorful image before me. Keith had drawn himself in the middle of the page, holding the hands of his mom and dad on either side of him. And, on the far right hand of the page, Keith had drawn me. On the top of the page, in his young, inexperienced handwriting, were the words, "I will look down on you."

How had Keith known? He'd absolutely known this morning that something wasn't right about this surgery, and he wasn't "ready for it." Had he meant that he wasn't ready to die yet, to leave his family behind? A sob erupts from within me, and I drop my head onto my arms. Damn it, I should have listened to him.

* * *

I slowly enter the cafeteria and, in a zombie-like state, grab a salad from the salad bar. Over the years, I've lost a number of patients. Nonetheless, I always force myself to eat some food after it happens, after the tears have subsided. It doesn't mean I've moved on though; it doesn't mean that I'm fine. Grabbing a bottle of water, I haphazardly find an empty table and sit down. I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath, only to see Keith's exuberant smile flash into my mind. I quickly open my eyes again and shake my head. Yet another young child stripped of life far before his time.

Minutes later, I'm halfway done with my salad as I notice Alex plop down in a seat next to me. He's quiet at first, so I know he's heard about my surgery. I wait for him to say something.

"I'm sorry Robbins," his voice is gentle. I nod my head, not looking up, not responding with words.

"Anything I can do?" Alex asks me. I smile softly at his kindness, finally meeting his eyes.

"Not really, but thanks," I say. We're silent for a while, and I make a conscious effort to continue eating my food. After a few moments, Alex distracts my thoughts with some of his personal problems. He seems irritated with his current romantic life, and wants to drown himself in a night of alcohol and bad decisions. He wants me to join him.

"Come on, please come with me. I need to just let off some steam and relax. I feel like every girl I get involved with is messed up in some way. Or, even better, I feel like I'm the one that messes her up, you know? I just hate thinking about it." Alex takes a drink of his water and frowns.

"So then don't think about it Alex. You don't cause girls to go crazy or be messed up, okay?" I respond.

"It's not that simple Robbins. I can't just 'not think it.' I can't stop the thoughts on my own. I need alcohol to stop the thoughts! And hey," Alex nudges me with his elbow and lowers his voice. "While I drown myself in tequila, we can find you a hot chick to hook up with! That way, I can cover my raging thoughts, and you can cover your pain about your patient. What d'ya say?" I can tell he's hopeful, but I end up giving him the same spiel that I do every time he suggests a night like this.

"Hey, if you want to spend a few hundred dollars on an endless night of shots, feel free. But you know my deal: when I'm in pain, I don't find comfort in other women, okay? When I'm sad, I find my wife and stay with her. I mean, if she's upset, I don't want her to be comforted by someone else; I want her to be comforted by me."

"Ugh!" Alex groans at me. "Can you please, for one night, forget about your foolish set of guidelines or whatever? I don't know why you even have rules about sleeping around, it's not like I do and it works just fine!"

I give him a look that says, 'really, you wanna think about that again?' And sure enough, Alex looks down in defeat.

"So it doesn't work fine, whatever. At least it feels good, you know? To let loose, forget about stupid rules and shit. Can you honestly say that you don't think about throwing out your good ole rulebook and just going crazy one night? I mean, don't you ever just want to find a woman that works at the hospital? Then you could do it in on-call rooms, and page each other whenever you need _relief_."

Alex looks openly at me and I actually let out a small chuckle.

"Feeling a bit undone there, Karev? In need of a little _relief_?" I ask with a smirk on my face. He only scowls at me. "You know I don't believe in screwing a woman that works at the hospital," I say in a whisper. "Anyone who works here could end up knowing me personally, which could become emotional. Not to mention Callie could find out. It would break all rules one to four, and that's not going to happen."

After I say this, Alex only tilts his head slightly to the side and sends an irritated expression my way.

"I kind of hate that you love your wife so much," he says.

"I know," I almost laugh at him, feeling my mood elevate slightly. "Look, let me spend tonight with my family, and then sometime next week we can go out together. Deal?"

"Are we gonna have to go all the way across town like usual?" He grumbles, not really needing an answer.

"Of course. Better to be safe," I say, even though right now, I have absolutely no desire to be with anyone but my perfect Calliope. I finish the last of my salad and stand up, giving Alex's shoulder a pat. "I'll see you later, alright? Don't drink the whole bar tonight."

As I walk away, I hear Alex huff in response. This only causes me to chuckle again. I wish he could find someone to truly love, someone worth loving, like Callie and I have found one another. He deserves that kind of love.

* * *

It's almost 4pm as I unlock the door to our apartment. Once inside, a wonderfully perfect sight greets me: Sofia is fast asleep in Callie's lap on the couch, and Callie's eyes are shut. Her breathing is deep, indicating that she's also asleep, and her arms are securely wrapped around our little girl.

I gently set my things down and make my way over to the couch, noticing a Disney movie running quietly in the background. I take a moment to simply capture the image of my gorgeous wife holding our adorable daughter, both at ease, both caught in the blissful realm of dreams. Ever so slowly, I sit down on the ground in front of Callie and Sofia, my face only inches from Callie's. I trail my fingers softly down her smooth cheek, and I'm rewarded with the lovely view of my wife's sleepy brown eyes opening to meet mine.

"Hey," I whisper, in hopes of not waking Sofia quite yet.

"Hey hon," Callie whispers back at me, her lips turning up in a smile. I lean in and capture her delicious mouth, allowing my fingers to delicately travel to her neck. As we break away a moment later, I hear a sigh leave my lips. This is heaven, right here in front of me. After one hell of a day, I am so lucky to be able to come home to such an amazing, unbelievable woman. Just a simple kiss is enough to calm my nerves, relax my body, and ease my stressful thoughts into silence.

"I've missed you all day," I say, my voice catching slightly, and I see Callie's brow furrow. She knows, just from that one sign, that something has gone wrong in my day.

"I've missed you too…" Her voice trails off for a second. "What happened at work today?" Callie's voice is etched with concern, and I love that she cares so much about me. I glance at Sofia, and after taking in the beautiful sight of our daughter, I drop a kiss to her head. I look back at Callie, and I can tell she understands; she knows that I lost Keith in surgery today. She nods her head and then begins to move on the couch, knowing that it will wake Sofia. When Sofia moves and opens her eyes, she looks over at me and her face turns into nothing but pure, unadulterated joy.

"Momma!" In one swift movement, Sofia jumps straight into my arms.

"Hey baby girl!" I say, hugging her back with everything I have in me. When we break apart, Sofia is so excited to tell me about her day, about what she did from the moment she woke up, until the moment I came home. She rambles on, in her childlike phrases, about how Callie made her Mickey Mouse pancakes for breakfast, how they spent some time running around outside at a nearby park, and finally, how they sat down to watch a movie together. It sounds like the perfect day, so different than what I experienced at the hospital.

"Hey, we didn't finish!" Sofia says suddenly, looking at the television. I look at the TV too, noticing the Disney movie just now ending. "I wanna watch it again! Mom, Momma, can I watch it again?" Sofia looks at us eagerly, jumping from one face to the other.

Callie merely laughs and says, "of course." I start the movie again and Sofia gets comfortable on the couch once more, staring intensely at the TV. This only makes me grin at her; how nice, to be that age.

I head to the kitchen, and Callie follows. I start to grab two wine glasses from the cupboard, only to be stopped by Callie's warm body enveloping me from behind. Her arms halt my movements, and she kisses the side of my neck. I rest my hands on the counter in front of me and lower my head. I sink my body backwards, relishing the heat of her body pressing against me. I sigh softly, and try to let the events of my day disappear. After a moment of silence, I turn in Callie's arms to face her. I take a few seconds to simply admire the beautiful brown of my wife's eyes, before ever so slowly leaning in to press my lips against hers.

Our kiss is soft, gentle, and utterly perfect. My hands rest on Callie's hips, while hers caress my lower back. When I feel Callie's tongue barely touch my lips, I waste no time in allowing her entrance to my mouth. This woman's tongue is meant to be along my lips, in my mouth, sliding along my tongue. The heat of her body is meant to touch mine, and mine is meant to touch hers. I savor the scent of our bodies mingling together, and the sound of our breathing enhanced in my ears. Minutes pass before either one of us break away; we don't want this tender moment to end.

Nonetheless, we finally allow a small amount of distance in between our bodies, and our foreheads rest together. Callie's eyes look deeply into mine, and I know she sees me in a way no one ever has. She smiles, and I find myself smiling back.

"How 'bout we sit back with some wine and that Disney movie over there?" Callie asks me softly, tipping her head in Sofia's direction. "Then maybe when it's over, I can cook us all some dinner, hmm?"

"Um," I ponder this briefly. "How about takeout tonight instead?"

"Sounds good. What are you thinking, pizza?" She knows me well. I nod my head, and soon the three of us girls are sitting together on the couch, Sofia holding both of our hands.

Instead of zoning out of the cartoon movie in front of us like I normally do, I choose to actually watch the movie play out. I don't want to be caught thinking of Keith anymore tonight. So, I watch the movie with my wife and my daughter. And when the pizza arrives later, we enjoy the meal together, laughing and making a bit of a mess with the food. As the night comes to an end, I bathe Sofia while Callie cleans up the kitchen. When Sofia is all tucked in bed, Callie quietly enters the bedroom, with full intentions of joining us for story time.

With Sofia snuggled under her blanket, Callie and I take turns reading the pages of the bedtime story until our little girl's eyes finally drift down. We continue reading for another few minutes, to make sure Sofia is really asleep, before quietly leaving her bedroom. Tip-toeing down the hall, we enter our bedroom and before I can think twice, I feel myself plopping down on our unbelievably comfortable bed, a giant sigh leaving my lips. I can feel Callie's eyes on me, so I look over at her, still standing a few feet away.

"What?" I ask. She smiles back at me.

"I love you," she responds, which only causes me to chuckle.

"Oh you do, do you?" I lean on my elbow, grinning at her. "Why don't you come over here and prove it then?"

Callie doesn't hesitate. She saunters in my direction, climbs on top of me, and braces her hands on either side of my head. Her loving eyes look down at me, and I notice my hand trailing along her incredibly soft jaw, subconsciously tracing the delicate lines of her face. She is so beautiful.

Our night continues in much the same fashion, with tenderness and warmth. Callie makes love to me, and I make love to her. We fall into each other in a way that makes every single thing around us disappear. The world is hazy, except for us. The way Callie's lips touch mine, the way my tongue strokes against her mouth, her neck, and down her body… there is simply nothing else that matters except the here and now. I'm so in love with my wife, and her love for me is just as evident. It's days like these, where everything I know and trust is turned on its head and my stomach tightens from the loss of a patient, that our love keeps me going. And it's not just our love, it's Calliope. The way she calms me, soothes me, and grounds me like no one else, it's hard to fathom. But it's the truth. She gets me in a way that no one else ever has, or ever will. I don't know if she's aware of how grateful I am to have her in my life, but if there's one thing I've learned from my years with Callie, it's that she knows me and my thoughts even better than I do. She gets me. And I love that almost as much as I love her.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't know how I got here, stuck in this revolving door of unhappiness and anger. I wasn't this person before; I used to be happy, carefree, excited about life and what it had to offer. I used to have dreams and expectations for myself of where I would go in my future months and years. I knew what I wanted. I had aspirations for myself that I had complete and utter confidence in. I used to know who I was and what I wanted. It was simple, and I never thought things could possibly change so much.

I didn't think that who I once was could ever spiral into a different human being, a person filled with frustration, annoyance, and so much fury. I lack patience now. I lack the ability to see beyond where I am right now, in this very second. Or at least, when I do look beyond where I currently am, I see nothing but unhappiness down my path. I'm stuck here, and I don't know how it came to be this way.

I feel trapped in this prison, a prison that I simply don't know how to escape. Shit, I don't even know what I did to get jailed inside. Was it my decision to get on that plane? Was it my decision to be caught up in the loss of Nick, in the anger I had coursing through my veins over Alex's decision to transfer to Hopkins? Was I not allowed to be emotional, to be angry, and therefore some higher power decided to strike me down in retribution? Didn't I deserve the chance to be upset, to feel a little bit of emotion other than my normal perky, cheerful self? How ironic it is now, that I can't even imagine being that person again. I was caught up in so much aggravation and disappointment in that moment, the moment that I decided to leave for Boise, and now I don't think I can go back to what I used to feel.

It seems like just yesterday that Alex and I were close friends, helping each other grab hook ups and leaning on one another in hard times. Now, I can't even look at him without feeling angry and annoyed. I want to blame him for this, for what's happened to me. But that's not necessarily true, is it? No, it's not Alex's fault; it's Callie's fault. She's the one who made the call, who decided to change my life in a way that I never could have imagined. It's her that I'm really mad at. And quite frankly, 'mad' doesn't cut it. I hear her name, hear her voice, see her face pop up in my head, and my blood boils. How could she?! She did this to me. I will never forgive her.

* * *

_Today, Callie tried talking to me about the settlement, about what could come of it. She kept talking about the money. She said we could be okay, we could be taken care of, the three of us. She even mentioned Mark. She said that he would want us to take the money. How could she possibly know that? He's dead! I couldn't believe what it sounded like to hear his name fall from her lips. He was her best friend, yes. But I was there when he died. I was there. I saw the pain he experienced, both physical and emotional. That kind of pain changes a person. I should know. So really, how could Callie have any idea what Mark would truly want us to do with this settlement? She doesn't. She doesn't know. _

_Callie said that she wants to know what I'm thinking. "More than anything," she'd said. And she brushed my hair from my forehead. She's done that so many times over the years, and every single time she did, I loved it. It's always been an endearing motion, a gesture of love and comfort. But this time, when she touched my forehead with the tips of her fingers, I flinched. Literally, I pulled away from her. And when I looked up into her eyes, I didn't see my wife anymore. I saw a woman I used to know, who betrayed me in a way I never could have seen coming. _

_Then, the evening came. Callie told me to come to the settlement meeting. I told her that she could go instead of me. Her response? "I'm going to speak for Mark, because he can't speak for himself. You see how that works?" Yes, I see how that works. Mark is dead! So obviously he can't speak for himself. But doesn't she see? I feel dead. I don't feel alive anymore. I look down at what's now missing, and I can't breathe. The oxygen feels like cement, solid and unmoving in my lungs. _

_"You should speak for yourself. I wasn't there; it's not a decision I should be making for you," she said. How amazingly ironic those words felt when they hit my ears. No, she was not there. She was not there. And yet, she still made the one decision that I repeatedly told her not to. More than that, she'd promised to follow my instruction, my decision. Then, she broke that promise. My response back was simple, and true. _

_"You weren't shy about making other decisions for me. What's different now? I mean, I think you're on a roll." _

_She didn't like my response. But I didn't care. I still don't care. Callie promised me something, then made a decision to break that promise and compromise the fulfillment of the rest of my life. She did that. She should own up to it. _

* * *

_The worst thing happened tonight, the night of the settlement. Callie came home and found me on the bathroom floor. I wasn't me. I'm still not me. You see, this woman I've become doesn't think or act like me. I'm watching things happen around me, and only half understanding them. Even when I speak, the words that come from my mouth feel true and strong, but very unlike me. So when she came home and found me and shoved me in the shower with her, I was able to look down on us from an outside perspective. For the first time since the accident, since the amputation, I saw Callie not as my wife who betrayed me. Instead, when I looked at us, both crying under the stream of water, I saw the woman who chose to marry me and cherish me… and care for me. I saw her in a new way. _

_"This is my life too!" She screamed, eyes closed, head down. After weeks of having no left leg… I finally saw that I wasn't the only one hurting. In fact, while Callie is the one who caused me pain, I'm the one who needs to accept it and move on. The problem is, while I've been trying to move on, I've been hurting her in the process. Yes, I wanted to hurt her. But seeing that agony on her face, the expression of pure, unadulterated grief, it made me feel guilty. More than that, it made me want to fix things. No, I don't forgive Callie for what she did to me. That doesn't change the fact that I hate seeing her in pain. _

* * *

_Today I met Dr David Moore. Nice guy. Pushy guy. But, he pushed me today in a way that I needed to be pushed, even if I didn't see it that way in the beginning. It's been a while now since the inevitable happened, and everyday I find myself avoiding the very obvious: I am missing the majority of my left leg. I have trouble looking down. I don't like looking down and seeing such a dramatic change in not only my appearance, but more importantly, what the lack of my limb can mean for my future. So when the doctor looked at my thigh and commented on the lack of scarring, I simply nodded, not bothering to double-check his assessment. _

_As the day progressed, Dr Moore helped me in every way he knew how. I was not an easy patient, I know that. With every hour, I found it extremely difficult to clamp down on my emotions. I felt frustrated, helpless, angry. All day long, I had to concentrate on the exact thing that I've been spending weeks trying to forget. I had to admit to having lost a limb. Even more so, I had to try and do something about it. _

_Prosthetic after prosthetic, fitting after fitting, the time moved so unbearably slow. And yet, I knew the day was passing faster than anticipated. I was supposed to be ready at a specific time in the evening for Callie to pick me up and bring us home. I knew I wouldn't be ready when she arrived, so I called her. She didn't answer. I called her again, she still didn't answer. Finally, after multiple calls, I left a voicemail. I told Callie that I was not going to be ready when she was expecting, and that I'd call her when I was. In spite of this, Callie came striding into the exam room at precisely the moment that I knew she would. I lashed out at her. I feel relatively guilty about it, but I still feel the truth in my statement. _

_"You didn't check your voicemail. You just looked to see who called. If you had checked your freakin voicemail, then you would know that I was still going to be here a while, because you would have gotten the freakin message!" _

_That's me now: irate, livid. Most of the time, I don't know how to control my emotions. I'm no longer the cheerful, perky doctor, who sees good in all things. I find myself regarding my thoughts in such a different way. I'm darker now. I don't like it. _

* * *

_Dr Moore was patient with me again today. He told me not to rush things, not to rush picking out a prosthetic. I don't think he grasps just how badly I want everything to be normal again. I just want to be able to stand without crutches or a walker. Why is that such a difficult request? Oh yeah, lack of leg. But still, the thought of finally having something strong to stand on again, it's appealing. I can cover it with some pants or scrubs, and pretend like it never happened. Except, although Dr Moore was patient in helping me, I pushed him a little harder than I should have. I yelled at him, and he gave me the afternoon to myself. He left me alone in the exam room and I had no choice but to be left with my thoughts. _

_At one point, I finally gathered the strength to try out a fake limb. Irony has an interesting way of showing itself, because as soon as I stood on both feet, Alex walked into the room. He startled me and I lost my balance. Although Alex caused me to slip, he was also the one who quickly caught me. _

_We talked for a minute. He asked if I was okay. He looked at my incision point and commented on how well it's healed. I couldn't help but soften a little. I was angry with Alex for choosing another hospital, another department, over mine, but he didn't cause that plane to fall from the sky. I asked him how my pediatric floor was holding up, and he said that the new doctor in charge, Barnett, has been single-handedly ruining all of my years of hard work. He was direct in what he said. _

_"We need you back." _

_"I'm trying," I said softly. _

_"You know," he paused. "Callie's trying too."_

_I didn't think of that, though subconsciously, I knew it. It was time to adjust my thinking about this whole no left leg thing. I'm angry about it, about the broken promise. It doesn't change the obvious: life needs to go on. I'm tired of feeling upset all the time. I'm upset with my situation, with Alex, with Callie, with myself. With Alex's words, I took a breath. He left the room, and I spent the next few hours looking at myself in a nearby mirror. I saw a woman that just didn't look like me. But I knew it was. I saw my missing leg, replaced with an engineered one. I stared and stared and stared. I hardly looked away. I made myself accept what I saw, because it was time to start making some changes to my moods and emotions. _

_When Dr Moore returned, at the very end of the day, I felt something happen to me that I never thought would happen again. I smiled. It was a small smile, but it was there. He smiled back at me. We had accomplished something, together, even though he wasn't physically with me for the entirety. I told him what I thought needed to be adjusted on the prosthetic. He gripped my shoulder in a supportive gesture, and I finally felt a little bit of weight lift from my body. _

_"Let's see what we can do about that," he said. And I knew, with some patience, that we'd figure it out. I felt optimistic for the first time in what felt like forever. _

_Once home with Callie, she poured me a glass of wine and helped me get settled on the couch. She was about to leave, to sleep at Mark's apartment for yet another night. I remembered what Alex said earlier, about Callie trying. Still angry with her, still forcing down my irritation, I thought instead of how she'd helped me recently. I thought of how I've given her hell day in and day out. So, I opened my mouth and quietly offered her an olive branch. _

_"American bake-off is on in a few minutes." _

_I let my statement hang, subtly asking her to stay with me, to join me. She was silent, so I slowly pulled the blanket off the cushion beside me. Callie saw this and then silently sat down. _

_To an outsider, it may not have appeared like much. But to us, we knew it was something big. A treaty, of some sort._

* * *

_Dr Bailey made today very interesting. I was at home, pretending to enjoy life without a leg, when she called me up. She wanted advice on a patient. I wasn't in the mood to help. She was persistent though, and asked me to take a look at the patient's chart if she had an intern send it over to our apartment. I knew what this would entail: using my prosthetic, and walking the very long distance from the bedroom to the front door. My first instinct was to decline, to refuse. But then I thought of the 13-year-old patient. I wouldn't do it for Bailey, I would do it for the girl. And then, when I finally made it half way across the apartment, I slipped. I don't know what caused it to happen, but I fell into the couch, which then pushed back into a table, which then caused our red vase to come crashing down. It shattered, and I felt tears brim my eyes. I pushed them down. I just needed to get to the door. With a deep breath and an immense amount of patience, I did just that. But when I made it to the door, there was no chart in the hallway. There was nothing there. All of my effort, my perseverance, the red vase… it was for nothing. I wasn't impressed. _

_I quickly called Bailey, who apologized profusely. In the next few hours, I waited for Bailey's intern to show up. I repeatedly checked the hallway for the paperwork, but never found it. I was getting irritated and worked up, so I started pacing around the kitchen. I didn't even realize what I was doing for the longest time. I was walking. Actually walking. And not just haphazardly moving with weakness and uncertainty; I was walking without hesitation. Sure, it was slower than when I had a real set of legs, but it was close. I called Bailey a few more times, asking for the chart, and she never answered. I was annoyed, but I couldn't let go of the possibility that I could maybe help that 13-year-old girl. What I did next surprised me. I bundled myself up and went to the hospital. _

_In the end, I tracked Bailey down, saw the chart, and helped in every way I could. I pointed out that the girl likely had Lemierre's Disease. We talked about the patient's symptoms and test results, and to my own shock, I felt the opposite of helpless. I was useful again. Minus a leg, I was still able to help someone. Minus a leg, I was still able to feel a little like Arizona the pediatric surgeon and not Arizona the handicapped. _

* * *

_Heather Brooks was following me around the hospital today with chairs, on my first day back. She didn't let up until I called her out on it. What's really funny, is that I made her get rid of her chairs only a short while before I fell face down in my own OR. I'd successfully made it through my surgery and I was proud of myself. Consumed with my thoughts of pride and happiness though, I accidentally put far too much pressure on my fake left foot. It caused me to fall. The funniest thing happened: I didn't cry, I laughed. And then, with Alex's help, I got up. I fell down, and I got back up. It felt amazing. _

* * *

_It's been five months since I lost my leg, and Callie boldly informed me of that today. Last night, she told me that I shouldn't worry about not being able to wear heels to Bailey's wedding. She said I'm so beautiful, that really, being a bit shorter than normal is a "public service" to every other woman around me. It was a kind thing to say, and it even calmed my nerves a little. But, it didn't make me truly okay with not being able to dress up like I wanted to for the wedding ceremony. Then today, she blurted out her frustration about our sex life. _

_"No one's gonna notice the stupid leg because everybody's gonna be looking at Bailey. And maybe for one night, our lives can be about something other than that damn leg. My whole life is about that leg. I haven't had sex in five months because of the leg. Enough about the leg!" _

_To top off my boatload of insecurity, I later found out that Callie told Bailey in casual conversation that she should "run" from her upcoming marriage. She told Bailey that it would be okay if she didn't go through with the ceremony. I can't help but correlate that with how she likely feels about our marriage. She wants to run, or perhaps has thought about it. _

_Between being hurt, annoyed, and ashamed of Callie's two statements… I didn't know how to react. I kept running Callie's words through my head: no sex in five months! Run! So, while waiting for Bailey to show up at the reception hall, I made a decision to book Callie and I a hotel room upstairs. I was going to give her what she wanted, so she wouldn't run away from me. _

_Once we were in the room, it was awkward. Painfully awkward. It was like we didn't even know each other. I wasn't ready for it, and I shouldn't have pretended like I was. When Callie came into the bedroom after just having a bath, I knew I shouldn't have led her on. She was just making me feel so pressured, so unsure. I never want Callie to leave me because of our lack of sex. To know that she's talking about marriage in a negative light, to know that she's probably thought of leaving me, it made me almost sick to my stomach. I understand why I booked the room, but looking back, I probably shouldn't have. _

_A little before we headed back to the reception hall, I opened up to Callie in the simplest way I could. _

_"Please don't run," I said. I explained that I didn't want her to leave me, and that it'll still take some time before I'm okay with having sex again. Quite frankly, I'm still too shaken up about the whole ordeal. Sometimes, I still experience little fits of anger and resentment directed toward Callie, and I need to not be so focused on that in order to fall into a regular sex life like before. Callie reassured me, and we connected in a tender moment. It wasn't passionate, or even that intense. But, it was familiar. And familiar felt good. _

* * *

_Callie doesn't understand the plane crash like the rest of us. Today, we received notification of our legal situation. We will each be receiving $15 million. While Derek, Meredith, Cristina, and I had very little reaction, Callie was excited. Then throughout the entire day, she wanted to be happy and positive about our outcome. She wanted to celebrate. That's great and all, but to the four of us, we couldn't quite get past the actual experience to want to celebrate. It was horrible out there, traumatic. Callie can be as supportive as she wants, but she will never truly understand the reality, the brutality, of what happened to the rest of us out in that forest. As straightforward as I can be, even though Callie lost Mark, she will never understand the magnitude of the repercussions from that plane crash quite like those of us who were actually in it._

* * *

_Yesterday, I experienced phantom limb pain. It wasn't my first time experiencing it, but it was far more intense than normal. I woke up from a nightmare where my leg shattered into pieces. Callie briefly stirred and asked me if I was okay. I didn't want her to know what happened, so I told her everything was fine. The thing is, we've recently gotten into a bit more of a routine together, a married-type of routine. Before, we felt like enemies, and then just doctor/patient. Now that we're finally feeling more normal as a pair, I just don't want to tell her about the phantom limb pain and cause us to revert back. _

_After a day of random pain shooting down my prosthetic, I actually had to sit out of my main surgery for the day. Owen helped me get through it by placing a mirror beside my right leg so I could physically see that my phantom pain was not real. I didn't believe him when he said it could help, but it did. _

_At night, I woke up yet again from another nightmare. It was more vivid, more brutal. In order to relax and get through the night, I snuck into the bathroom and used his mirror trick. Then this morning, when Callie tried to come into the locked bathroom, she asked me if she could join me in the shower. The idea of us sharing a shower right then was simply not an option. Instead, we decided on a movie night tonight, talking through the closed door. I suppose that says something about the communication between us. _

_Once at the hospital, Owen tried to help rid me of my phantom limb pain in a different way. He tried psychological training, brain strengthening exercises while picturing a beach. I wasn't up for it, and it didn't relieve any pain. I wish it had though, because afterwards, when I was in surgery, I had to resort to something more drastic. When the intense pains shot down my left leg, much like yesterday, I ended up screaming at Karev to stab my left foot with a scalpel. Everyone thought I was crazy. Hell, even I thought I was a little crazy. But, when he did it, when I saw that scalpel jam hard and fast into my fake left foot… I felt relief. My pain subsided, and my heart rate slowed. I looked down at the scalpel, and everything was back to normal. _

_When Callie and I then came home tonight after our mandatory hospital meeting, I was calm and relaxed. Callie on the other hand, was anything but. She was annoyed and upset about the meeting, after learning that the ER would need to close for financial reasons. For the millionth time, we were in two different places emotionally. I pushed down that thought though and instead, I showed Callie how to mentally go to the beach. I used Owen's earlier technique, which required quite a bit of hard work on my part, but it did end up calming Callie down. Right as we drifted off to sleep, I heard her mention how it was working. I could hear the smile in her tone of voice. Even though I was much calmer than I was earlier today, I couldn't quite bring a smile into my own emotions. Being relaxed is one thing, but telling your mind to imagine something that isn't real, and then forcing it to believe it's real… well, it's intense. It's something that requires quite a bit of mental energy. Even being at the "beach," Callie was able to quickly let go of her frustrations and be happy, whereas I could only focus hard to relax. We were in the same place, but really, we were not together. _

* * *

_All day long, and I mean literally all day long, Callie and I bickered. I tried to be nice and make everything smooth between us, but who was I kidding? We were fighting about Sofia wearing tights with dresses for crying out loud. That is such a foolish thing to argue about. Nonetheless, we did, for hours. And then, we argued about our differing approaches for our patient. She was a young girl who needed to walk on her newly operated leg. If she didn't start walking on it, it would basically rot away and she would lose it. Needless to say, I was able to relate to her situation. _

_"Okay, you know what? You can be scared and you can be pissed and you can lie here like a garden slug until you die for all I care, but you will not, not, become a monster that takes everyone else down with them. You will treat people with kindness and respect, and you will start with yourself. And you will start by standing up. And you will do so by the time that I count to three or I will drag your ass out of this bed."_

_My little speech worked. Quite frankly, what I said to the girl was exactly what I still tell myself everyday. I can be scared and I can be pissed about having a prosthetic for a leg, but I don't have the right to treat everyone around me like crap. I don't have the right to treat Callie like crap, even if we hardly agree on anything these days. I push forward and try to treat her right by forcing down my sometimes-raging thoughts and emotions. It's the right thing to do. _

* * *

_Callie wants us all to buy the hospital. She's been freaking out about Pegasus since this whole thing started. I've tried to tell her to embrace the change, to cool her heels about it all. She's done anything but. Instead, she wants us to pool our money together and purchase the hospital. She told me while we were in a group with Derek and Meredith. She didn't even bother to discuss the idea with me alone, as her partner, first. I'm barely able to get from day to day without thinking negative thoughts about my missing leg and what I can no longer do because of it, and now she wants me to start putting my energy toward owning the hospital? It's just too much. I can't do it all, and I don't want to. _

_Of course, there's the idea of money as well. She wants us to use every single penny that we have in our bank accounts to buy the hospital. She wants to bankrupt us. She wants to use Mark's money too, and Lexie's. She wants to put the hospital first, instead of her wife and daughter. I couldn't feel farther away from her right now if I tried. _

* * *

_Tonight, Bailey told me she was quitting her job and leaving Seattle Grace. I couldn't let her do that, all because of Pegasus. I met with Callie, Derek, Meredith, and Cristina. I told them that if we're going to buy the hospital, it has to happen fast. Callie smiled at me and asked if that meant I was in, if I was in favor of buying the hospital. No, I'm not in favor of it. But, I am in, if only to save Bailey from leaving, and to save my favorite staff from deserting my pediatric floor. I nodded and Callie kissed me. In that one single second… it felt good. Even though we were on two sides of the drawing board, fighting for two different tomorrows… it felt good to not be arguing anymore. So, I went with it. _

* * *

_"Obviously I won't be wearing it with a t-shirt and underwear," I said this morning, as Callie ogled me from the couch. _

_"Oh no, you should only wear it with a t-shirt and underwear," Callie said back to me, eyeing my new prosthetic, meant for heels. _

_When I first tried on my 'fancy' prosthetic, all Callie wanted to do was have sex. She was turned on, I get it. But I wasn't in the mood, and I still wasn't ready for it. I needed to practice walking. I needed to get comfortable. I needed to be comfortable enough in the new shape so I could walk effortlessly through the halls of the hospital. She didn't get that. And I didn't like it. _

_As the day progressed, I found out how much better I felt wearing heels again. As I received flirtatious glances from those around me, I started to feel a little sexy. Then, Callie came into one of the x-ray rooms while I was studying them. Still feeling sexy, and remembering Callie's earlier mood this morning, I asked her if she'd be up for some alone time in the evening. She was more than okay with the idea. Unfortunately, later in the afternoon, I started to feel insane pain on my upper left thigh due to the prosthetic. _

_"These heels are killing me. What was I thinking? I mean, heels were a pain even before I had a plastic leg. Why did I think it'd be better now?" I said this to Callie, being honest and open, not thinking about whether or not I should or shouldn't say it. The thing is, you shouldn't have to think twice about what you say to your girlfriend. You should be able to express your thoughts without receiving a backlash. And low and behold, that's exactly what I received. _

_"We're not gonna have sex tonight. That's what you're saying. You just told me your leg hurts so that tonight when I put on my drop-dead gorgeous underwear you're gonna tell me to change into my sweats. And then when I look disappointed, you're gonna say 'please don't make that face Callie. You know that my leg's been bothering me today.' And, ugh-" _

_Callie was annoyed at me. She was basically calling me manipulative. I couldn't believe it. She left the room in a huff. We didn't talk again for a few hours until yet again, I was studying a set of x-rays when she walked into the room. She saw how much pain I was in because of the prosthetic, and she told me to view her in that moment not as my wife, but as my doctor. She wanted to help me with my pain. She told me to remove my pants. What amazes me now, in such a bad way, is how uncomfortable I was with removing my pants in front of her. She's my wife for crying out loud. Why should I ever feel uneasy removing my clothes in front of my wife, the mother of my child? I shouldn't. So, I did as Callie asked. _

_Once I was sitting down on a chair with my scrub pants removed, Callie undid my plastic leg even though I didn't want her to. Then she informed me that she was going to place her hand on my upper thigh. I didn't want her to. I was so unbelievably nervous and uncomfortable sitting in front of her, completely exposed. She was kneeling down, directly in front of my missing left leg. She'd never done that before. I wasn't okay with it. I wasn't okay with showing my wife my missing limb. _

_Then, Callie placed her hand on my throbbing thigh, and massaged it. It felt so good. I couldn't believe how good it felt to relieve some of the pressure and tension on the strained muscles. What I couldn't believe even more than that, was how good it felt to let Callie be close to me. It wasn't that I wanted her close to me, or that I wanted it to be her massaging my sore muscles. Instead, it was the idea that Callie wanted me to let her in, and she was happy when I did. Despite everything that's happened with us, the broken promise, the decision to cut off my leg, I still have an innate desire to make Callie happy. Truth be told, I just want to make everything good and whole again, regardless of what I actual want for my own life. So… I let her help me, because that's what she wanted to do. _

_With that thought in mind, I dressed up for Callie tonight. I wore my red lingerie, the ones I know she has a particular fondness for, and I let her finally touch me in the most intimate of ways. I let Callie get close to me, touch me. I let Callie have what she's been craving for months on end. I didn't necessarily want the sex myself, but I knew she wanted it. And really, I just wanted her to be happy. I was fine with the sex. I mean, hell, Callie is good at what she does. But I didn't initiate it for me; I did it for her. _

* * *

_It's been a few weeks since that night, since the night I let Callie and I get back to having a sex life again. This morning, Callie was practicing her TED speech. She wasn't doing very well. I knew she needed to get out of her head and detach from her notes. I only knew one way to help her do that: me, naked. I took my clothes off, watched Callie's mind go blank, and I kissed her with the passion that I knew would completely dislodge her nonstop stream of medical thoughts. It worked like a charm. While I enjoyed our experience, our connection, I did it for her. Yet again, I put myself second, and I put my wife's needs and desires first. I did it for her. _

* * *

The hospital is preparing for a storm. It was supposed to move in slowly, but instead, it's come rushing to the shores of Seattle. I'm dead tired from my morning surgery, and I'm supposed to be meeting with a new specialty patient shortly, baby Tyler who has encephalocele. It's an extraordinary case, and although I'm exhausted, I'm really excited to jump into it.

"Hey Robbins!" I hear Alex call to me from down the hall. I stop walking and wait for him to catch up to me.

"Hey Karev. How's your morning going?" I ask.

"Yeah fine. I was wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks tonight?" He looks a little under the weather.

"Uh, you do realize a storm is supposed to be coming in over the next day or so, right?" I start walking again and he follows beside me.

"Yeah yeah, but it shouldn't be here until like tomorrow. And I really need a night away from Jo. She seems to be everywhere! I keep trying to avoid her but everywhere I look, there she is."

"Why are you trying to avoid her? You like her, she likes you, what's the problem?"

"That's the thing, she doesn't like me - she's dating Peckwell!"

"Peckwell? You mean Jason Peckwell? Hmm. Didn't see that coming."

I pause at the nurse's station and grab baby Tyler's chart from a nearby stack. I flip the binder open and notice a sticky note on the top page. It's from Jackson. It reads: 'Craniofacialist to assist.'

"Are you kidding? They've been dating for a while now. How have you not noticed?" Alex is on edge, I can tell.

"How have I not noticed?" I look over at him. "Um, I don't know, I've been adjusting to a leg amputation, a few new prosthetics, and my wife slowly becoming more and more distant from me?" I shake my head a little.

"What? I thought you and Callie were finally good. What do you mean she's becoming distant?"

"I don't know." I look back down at the chart in front of me, my eyes wandering over the word 'craniofacialist.' "We finally have a regular sex life and everything, and we still spend time together every night with Sofia and whatnot… but it's like we're kind of isolated in our own little worlds. She has her own thing going on, and so do I. And then when I try to talk to her about what's going on with me, she has a tendency to cut me off and talk over me. It's really irritating."

"Have you talked to her about it?" Alex asks earnestly.

"Have I talked to her about it?" I laugh out loud. "No, definitely not. The last time I brought up something personal, the pain I was experiencing with my prosthetic, she turned it into me trying to communicate my lack of desire to have sex. Since then, I've learned to just keep my mouth shut and try to pretend like everything is good and happy, you know?"

"Sounds healthy," Alex remarks, leaning against the nurse's station.

"Oh yeah, I'm the unhealthy one. You're the one trying to avoid the woman you have feelings for." I reach for a pen and start reviewing the pages in front of me.

"Whatever. Speaking of, are you up for drinks tonight then?"

"I don't know. Let's see how the weather is later and I'll get back to you."

"Yeah alright," Alex says as he pushes off from the station and turns to walk away.

"Hey, before you go, do you know which craniofacialist they're flying in for baby Tyler?" I call out to him as he continues walking.

"No idea!" He says back, now turned and heading in the opposite direction. I look back down at the information on my patient, wanting to know everything I can before meeting him and his parents.

"That'd be me," I hear a woman's voice from nearby, to my left. I look over and see a tall blonde woman grinning at me. I instantly grin back, even though I have no idea why.

"Excuse me?" I ask unsteadily.

"I'm the craniofacialist they called in." The woman says, her grin turning into a smile as she steps in closer to me. In fact, she steps very close to me. She brings her hand up to shake mine. "I'm Dr Boswell."

I glance from her eyes to her cheekbones to her lips in less than a second. And then I recognize her hand sticking out in front of me, requesting contact. I bring my hand up as well and grip her in a comfortable handshake. Her skin is warm, very warm. She's still smiling at me, not looking away even once. I find myself smiling back.

"But please, call me Lauren."


	4. Chapter 4

Intoxicating. That's the only word currently sweeping through my mind. The smell, the sound, the sight… of this woman. She's intoxicating. And for the life of me, I have no idea why I'm feeling so uneasy around her. But, uneasy in a good way, if that's possible. It's a little bit like torture, being near her. The thing is, it's a delicious, divine type of torture. I feel her proximity when she's anywhere in the same room as me. I feel the strength of her gaze, the power of her smile. Damn, that smile. She can throw a smirk, a grin, or a thousand-watt beam in my direction, and my whole stomach feels like it's dropped out of a plane to go skydiving. She has an aura that very easily surrounds her. I don't know why or how a person can give off so much just by merely standing around, or smiling, or talking. Oh, talking. Her voice. That's another thing entirely. The way she speaks is smooth, like caramel. I could close my eyes and listen to meaningless nonsense leave her lips, and still be enraptured. But all of this, it's superficial, compared to her personality.

When this woman is around me, I can sense something heavy about her. And by heavy, I mean powerfully intimidating. I don't know if others feel this way in her presence, but I know I do. She has confidence in her walk, her stride. Yet, when she stands absolutely still, the control that emanates from her body seems almost more prevalent. When she says something, it's said for a reason. When she moves her eyes to look at something or someone, there's a distinct motive behind it. She knows what she wants, from small things to big things, and it shows even from a distance. She has poise and dignity, yet instead of it coming off as prude or arrogant, it comes off in the most sensual of ways. She is a woman that recognizes her desires, and sets about achieving them, no matter the challenges or consequences along the way. It's this personality that has me entranced right now, as she stands in front of me, gazing up at the scans of our patient. Well, it's her personality… and her body.

My eyes drop down the length of her form, and I realize this is the first time I've admired a woman other than my wife since before the crash. I've forgotten this feeling, the sensation that wraps around my chest as I mentally undress someone. The heat that fills my cheeks, the sound of blood rushing in my ears. But damn, the way that this woman causes my heartbeat to speed up and my breathing to heighten, it's exactly why the word 'intoxicating' suits her so well. Dr Lauren Boswell is extremely intoxicating.

"Arizona?"

Her voice catches me slightly off guard as I hastily bring my eyes up to meet her look of utter amusement. Shit, I was checking her out, and she noticed. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Hmm?" I respond, mouth closed, eyes almost squinting. I wonder if I can pull off a look of consternation instead of obvious approval. She merely grins back at me, with complete knowledge of what I was doing. She tilts her head a little to the side and asks me a question that even I find a little forthcoming.

"Am I distracting you, Dr Robbins?" Her eyebrow rises slightly and she turns to face me full on. Wow, she's direct. I clear my throat and swallow before answering.

"I'm sorry, I was… lost in thought," I say.

"I'm sure you were."

We stand in silence for a moment, our eyes meeting, neither of us looking away. I can't exactly be the first one to give in, not after her not-so-subtle question. She wants to be the dominant one in this room, and I don't think I want that to happen. I can be dominant when I want to be.

"So," I begin, as I move forward to face the scans myself. I very intentionally inch closer to her, silently communicating that I can play this game just as well as she can. "You said that the ultrasound revealed the encephalocele only contains fluid, and not brain matter."

"Ah, you were paying attention." She's still looking at me, and I can feel the warmth of her body so near to mine. I turn my head, only bringing our faces closer together.

"I'm good at multitasking." I don't blink or move. The thing is, when it comes to flirting, it's all in the eye contact. When you're treating someone with respect, you look them in the eye while they're talking, and then briefly look away before responding. But when you're flirting with someone, the eye contact is as constant as possible. The only time it's okay to lose eye contact with someone while you're flirting with them, is when you intentionally look down to their lips, or their neck, or their whole body for that matter. And knowing that Dr Boswell and I are currently flirting, I make sure to keep my eyes steady on hers. Needless to say, she does the same in return.

"Anyway," I continue, still looking at the woman beside me. "You're going to resect it and you think there won't be any developmental defects. Are you that confident in your skills Dr Boswell?"

She smiles at this, almost a full smile with teeth showing and everything. And with her response, her eyes intentionally drop down to my mouth. Of course, I notice, and she wants me to.

"I'm very confident in my skills Arizona." Her gaze moves slowly back up. "And like I said this morning, please call me Lauren."

"Lauren," I pause. "If Tyler Simms ends up with no developmental defects, which I'm sure you're right in saying that he won't… I'll have to congratulate you on a surgery well done. What do you say?"

"Well," she turns the off the machine we were looking at and puts her hands in her pockets. "How about a cup of coffee now? Let's call it a pre-celebration."

"Wow, you are confident." This makes me chuckle. I glance down at my watch. "Actually, I have to take care of something in a little bit, so I don't really have time for coffee. Rain check?"

"Definitely."

Side by side, we walk to the door. We both reach for the handle at the same time, causing my skin to hit hers. I don't immediately pull away, which I'm sure she takes note of. When I do pull away though, Dr Boswell's hand is left on the door handle. She looks at me.

"I'll hold you to that rain check." With that, she opens the door and gestures for me to head out first. I nod my head in her direction and begin to walk down the hallway. I hear her make a quick, final remark.

"See you around, Arizona." Her green eyes look back at me, intently.

"Bye Lauren," I say, swiftly shooting a wink at her before turning around again.

Wait, did I just wink at her? No, I didn't, did I? Shit, I did. I didn't mean to do that. I can't actually follow through with this woman. I mean, I have a prosthetic leg now, it's not like I can just have a fast rough and tumble like I used to be able to. And really, I should keep in mind that she's working at the hospital, albeit temporarily. Callie could find out. Right, Callie, my wife. She could find out. She's never learned about my prior extracurriculars, and I need to make it a point for her never to. So basically, that means I need to cool things down with hot Dr Boswell. I don't want her getting any ideas of what could happen between us. I mean, sure, if I'd met her before the plane crash, and outside of the hospital, I could definitely see some sexual chemistry taking place. But now, after surviving the crash and losing my leg, and knowing the rules that I need to follow, I simply cannot allow anything to happen. It's not an option. I need to remember that. And that wink I just threw in her direction… I'll have to reel back from that later, somehow. And I'll have to remember to act professionally around her, and not call her Lauren, no matter how sexy that name is.

Keeping in mind my earlier agreement with Callie to meet with her and talk to Bailey, I head in that direction. Ever since we, the board, reported Bailey to the CDC, she hasn't exactly been the most friendly toward us. In fact, she hasn't been friendly with anyone. She's chosen to work in the genome lab, and lock herself inside. Callie's sent me a few texts throughout the morning, telling me her attempts at communicating through the closed door. Nothing's worked. I don't see how my attempt at talking to Bailey will make any difference on the matter, but I told Callie that I'd try, so try I will.

"Hey," I say to Callie, bumping my shoulder against hers in the hall.

"Yay, you're here! I can't get Bailey to say even one word to me. You have to try something!" Callie says to me, eyeing the nearby door to the genome lab. "Okay just remember, bright and sunshine-y."

I force myself to smile at that remark. Yes, bright and sunshine-y, that's exactly who I am these days.

"Hi Bailey, it's Arizona." I look through the window on the door to see Bailey facing the opposite direction, sitting on a chair. This is pointless. She won't respond to anyone, let alone me, right now. I look over at Callie, hiding next to the door. I hope that she can see the pointlessness of this with just my expression, but no, she doesn't. Instead, she gestures for me to continue. "Listen, I understand that you're mad but, you know, there's no reason for you to be mad alone. You can be mad at us. You can yell and scream and throw things, 'cause we can take it."

No response. I look at Callie again. Please Callie, see the ridiculousness of this situation.

"She's a grown woman, giving us the silent treatment. It's a call for help." Callie shakes her head, clearly upset by this. I can't help but look at her with a small amount of exhaustion. Doesn't she see that Bailey just wants some peace and quiet?

"Or it's her way of saying leave me alone," I respond to Callie, before walking away. Bailey just needs time, and Callie shouldn't be pushing her to talk and discuss things. God knows I needed time when I was mad for all those months. I needed time. Even if Callie didn't understand that then, she should at least understand it now. But no, she doesn't.

* * *

A few hours later, I'm looking in on the boy who overdosed on his grandmother's medicine. Owen is nearby in the ER, also looking in on the boy, but from a distance. I understand there's a closeness between the two of them, and that if this boy doesn't wake up from his coma, there could be quite a few repercussions to follow.

Checking the time, I have about an hour before my shift is over for the day. I head back to my pediatric floor, only to see a certain blonde doctor sitting behind the nurse's station, looking intently upon some files. I don't even notice the smile that graces my lips. As I walk up, I silently study Dr Boswell. I admire her look of focus. She has a pen in her hand and she's subconsciously moving it in between her fingers, from left to right. I wonder if that's something she does when she's thinking intently, or just an idle movement at any given time.

I lean against the ledge, opposite from where she's sitting, and look down at the paperwork sprawled about. Dr Boswell is reviewing Tyler's patient information again. I would be doing the same right now as well, if I hadn't been previously concerned with the young child in the ER. I find myself wondering more about this woman in front of me. Does she spend hours looking over patient history and scans? Does she do research both during and after work? Or is she the type of doctor that can fly by the seat of her pants, taking each moment in stride? I'm curious about her, about what makes her tick.

"Hello there," I say quietly, interrupting her reverie.

"Oh hey," she responds in kind, meeting my smile with one of her own. She looks to her left at a nearby clock, checking the time, before glancing back at me. "I was hoping I'd get to see you again today."

Funny, I think I was hoping the same thing about her. But, I need to remember my earlier decision to grab hold of this situation. I need to reel it in and calm the slowly burning fire in my stomach that this woman seems to easily create.

"Were you? Did something change with Tyler's case?" I ask, with full intentions of being professional. Dr Boswell leans back in her chair and does a small stretch with her arms above her head. My eyes inadvertently skim their way down her scrub top before I force myself to look away and take a breath. I have to get control of this.

"No, but I was hoping I could run a few ideas by you regarding the surgery tomorrow. Do you have some time?" Her arms are still raised with her hands clasped behind her head. It's a challenge not to look down those arms, to marvel at the apparent strength they hold. Of course, that could just be in my head, the idea that Dr Boswell's body is just as strong as her mind.

"Yeah, I've got time."

"Great," she says before quickly dropping her arms to scoop up her paperwork and stand from the chair. In doing so, she bends slightly forward, giving me as much of a view of her chest as scrubs allow. The view is obscured, and yet I feel privileged to be able to glimpse even the smallest amount of her skin. No, it can't just be in my head, the idea of this woman's physical strength. Both her mind and her body practically scream out power and authority. I just wish I could learn the extent of her potency. "Do you have a room or an office that we can use?"

Dr Boswell and I alone in my office. I'm not sure that's a great idea.

"Yeah, this way." Nonetheless, I gesture ahead and we walk together down the hall.

"So how was your afternoon?" She asks simply, with the paperwork gripped in her hand. I find my own hands beginning to fiddle, so I shove them in my pockets.

"Not the greatest, actually. Complications in the ER, you know how it is."

"Actually, it's been a while since I've really worked in an ER. I tend to jump from hospital to hospital, wherever they need me." We turn a corner.

"That's right, you're a 'legend,' or so I'm told."

"A legend? I'm no legend. Who said that?" She laughs and looks over at me as we reach the door to my office. I open it and allow her to enter first. I consider leaving the door open, but something compels me to close it behind us as I follow her inside.

"Dr Avery, this morning, after we consulted on Tyler. I have to say, from what I've seen so far, you seem to be living up to his compliment."

I watch as Dr Boswell sets her paperwork down on the desk and easily slides into a chair. There's an empty seat beside her, which I casually relax down on. I could sit on the opposite side, in my actual chair, but seeing as we're probably going to be reviewing some scans together, this seat is probably the best choice.

"Believe me, I'm no legend Arizona. But," she adjusts her position to turn and look at me. She then moves her chair slightly to the right, to better face me. "I hear you're quite the legend."

"Me? What makes you say that?" I instinctively match her actions and move my chair as well. We're almost facing one another entirely, but not quite.

"I looked you up." Her gaze catches mine, and her words register within me. She looked me up? She looked me up. What could she have found out about me online? I quickly run through all of my medical accomplishments, and then I realize that my personal information is likely out on the internet as well. Personal information such as the plane crash. My smile fades and my stomach drops. That's not information I feel comfortable with Dr Boswell knowing. I look away.

"Hey, what's up?" She asks, clearly noticing my faltered expression. "I found nothing but great things about you."

"Like what?" I'm hesitant in asking.

"Well for starters, you're one of the Grey/Sloan Seven!" She's excited about this, but I have no idea what she's talking about.

"The what?"

"You know, the seven doctors that stepped up and bought their own hospital. You saved the staff from losing their jobs! I mean, I'd heard about it, every doctor in the country heard about it… but I didn't know you were one of the seven."

She leans forward in her seat and gently places her hand on my scrub-covered thigh. It's supposed to be an attempt to calm me, to bring me back into the bubble of smiles that we were in before, but it only causes my nerves to tighten. Even through clothing, I can feel the heat of her skin. It's not just that she's a woman touching me, it's that she's the first woman other than my wife who I've been attracted to in months, and she's touching me. Let's face it, recently things between Callie and I have been anything but sexy. And this, well, the feeling of this gorgeous woman so close to me, smiling at me, trying to comfort me… it feels good. A little too good.

"It was brave, Arizona, what you did. You're the real legend in this room. And I'm so impressed."

There's a long moment of silence between us. People sometimes underestimate the power of silence. So much communication can happen without a single word or sound. Dr Boswell looks at me, a smile still gracing her lips, making me wonder, does this woman ever not smile? Our stare lasts longer than I should allow, and she's the one who finally breaks the quiet.

"So tell me more about what happened in the ER."

She removes her hand from my thigh, and I instantly miss it. That's not a good sign. I shake my head and look down to where her fingers were only seconds ago. I don't say anything at first, and then, the words that flow from my mouth come without thought. They simply enter the room without my consent.

"I didn't want to buy the hospital. I didn't care what happened to it, or to the staff." I very slowly move my eyes back to her green ones. "I didn't want to buy it."

Dr Boswell's expression softens and her smile drops away. Ah, so she doesn't always smile. One question answered.

"So what changed your mind?" She asks softly.

"My wife." I don't know why, but I somehow expect my response to cause her to look away, or flinch, or move farther back in her chair. But she does none of these things. Instead, she nods her head, as if telling me that she already knew I was married, and she wants me to continue my explanation. "Do you know that my wife is a doctor here?"

She nods.

"And I assume you know that her and I bought the hospital along with the other five?"

She nods again.

"Dr Boswell," I feel my lips forming the smallest of grins. "How 'bout you tell me what you know about me, and then I'll tell you what else you want to know. Deal?"

Her smile grows again.

"Only if you stop calling me that. Call me Lauren. I want us to be on a first name basis." The idea of being on a first name basis with her is daunting. It's like opening a door to a room I know I shouldn't be anywhere near.

"Okay. Lauren," I pause, noticing her lovely grin. "What did you find out about me online?"

"Well, I found out that you're part of the Grey/Sloan Seven, which I still want to hear more about. I also learned that you're married. Your wife owns part of this hospital along with you. You two have a daughter together. And I learned that you survived a horrible plane crash, which doesn't surprise me. You seem incredibly strong-willed."

"I don't know who you think I am exactly, but I'm anything but strong-willed. I'm a bit of a control freak, sure, but strong-willed? Not so much, at least not anymore. I had no desire to fight the system and buy this hospital. And I barely survived that crash. Some of me never really did survive it." I glance down at my prosthetic leg, covered in dark blue, before looking back up. "I lost a leg."

"I know." Her response is so simple. She doesn't look away. Her green eyes meet my blue, and an intense chill runs through me. She knows. She knows, and she doesn't seem to think anything of it. How is that possible? "And I think I do have an idea of who you are. But I'd love to learn more about you."

There's that flirtatious vibe again. She's kind of a master at transitioning between professional to personal to intimate. I wonder what else she's a master at.

"Do people tell you all the time that you have really pretty eyes?"

Well shit.

There's indirect, harmless flirting, and then there's this. You know, the direct type of flirting that can really only lead to certain things. I release a nervous laugh, still admiring the green of her eyes. For the millionth time, I steel my resolve and respond just as direct as her.

"Lauren, I'm married. And as you know, I have one leg. I just can't…" I trail off, not sure how to end my statement. _I can't start something with you_, is what I really want to say.

"I know." Again, she says 'I know,' but does she really? "But you do have the most beautiful eyes. I thought they were hazel at first, but they're blue. Really, really blue. Deep, strong. Like you, I think."

I laugh. She smiles back.

"Again, you have me pegged very wrong. I'm sure you'll find that out."

"Will I? I'm only here for a few days, will I get to know you that well before I leave?"

How I wish she could get to know me… but that can't happen. I'm minus a leg now, and my wife is in this very building.

"Do you want to?"

"More than you know."

"Then let's discuss what you wanted to about Tyler, and then maybe we can get a drink at the bar across the street?" Does my mind even communicate with my lips? No, I don't think so. I'm specifically supposed to be avoiding this woman, not asking her out! Stupid mouth.

Lauren's gaze lingers on me and I notice the tip of her tongue very slowly wet her lips. My God. She's trying to kill me. Or tempt me, more like it.

"I would love that."

* * *

"Alex, where are you? I've called you like five times and you haven't answered." My cell is on my ear as I leave Alex a voicemail. "Look, if you still want to grab that drink, the weather's holding out and I'm heading over to Joe's now with Lauren- uh, Dr Boswell. So if you get this, meet us there."

I hang up and lean against the wall outside of the Attending's lounge. Somehow, I finished changing out of scrubs a long while before Lauren, which is why I'm still waiting for her in the hallway. I don't know what could be taking her so long. I kick the door open a few inches and peek inside. I don't see her anywhere. I go into the room and slip my phone in my pocket.

"Lauren?" I call out.

"Yeah I'm back here," I hear her respond from the back of the room. Following her voice, I round a corner of lockers and stop dead in my tracks. There she is, standing over a table, paperwork yet again sprawled out, and she's wearing a tight tank top. Damn. Why is she standing there, wearing simple pants and a tank? More importantly, why is she looking over files yet again? Although really, I care more about the tank top than the papers.

"Um…" I lose my train of thought, not quite sure what to say. My eyes immediately begin to scan Lauren's exposed tan skin. I can see the cloth of her shirt clinging to her breasts, and the sight makes me mouth go dry. I shouldn't have come looking for her. I definitely shouldn't have come looking for her.

"Sorry, I just had a thought." Lauren briefly glances up and gestures for me to move closer. "Come look at this."

I'm torn between having an intense desire to flee the room, and an even more intense desire to grab Lauren, push her down on that table, and run my hands under that very tight tank top. Instead, I take a breath and very calmly stand beside her. I look down at the paperwork, not surprised to see Tyler Simms' information yet again.

"I think you're a little obsessed with this case," I say.

"I don't know about obsessed, just thorough." I watch as Lauren runs her slender fingers along the most recently printed scan. "So this morning I was thinking of using synthetics to form the base of the skull, but now I think I'm going to use his own bone from local. And I was thinking," she looks up at me before continuing. "Since you studied under Bud Clement at Hopkins, that means you are more than capable of doing the calvarial bone graft yourself while I focus on the bipartition. What do you think?"

"Um… I think you forgot to mention that you learned literally everything about my life online." I should be annoyed, or feel violated, but oddly enough, I find this sort of amusing.

"Well, not everything." Now, it's Lauren's turn to allow her eyes to drift over my body, much like I did to hers only seconds ago. The longer her eyes linger, the hotter my skin gets. And surely, the redness in my cheeks is more obvious than I'd prefer.

"So why did you just have to look at this now? Couldn't we have talked more about it tomorrow?"

"When I get my mind set on something, I just have to follow through." Our eyes meet. "I'm sure you can relate?"

"Yeah," I find my response barely louder than a whisper. "I get it."

"That settles it then. Let me just throw these papers in my locker and we can go."

"Are you sure you feel comfortable with me doing part of the reconstruction? I mean, you were specifically called in to do this surgery. I wasn't asked to do it."

"I'm definitely sure. I figure, the more people in the room who know how to perform the surgery, the safer for kids everywhere. It's kind of my way of controlling the world." She chuckles as she heads to one of the guest lockers. I silently follow her. "And besides, this way you'll have something to remember me by."

"Well, every time I tuck a baby's brain into his skull–" I start, but she cuts me off.

"You are gonna think of me… that's the idea."

There's something in the way she says this that once again causes my skin to heat up. She wants me to think of her, to remember her. Somehow, I don't think that's going to be a problem. I watch as Lauren grabs a jacket and throws it on over her very tight top.

"You're gonna wear that?" I suddenly blurt out.

"Excuse me?" Lauren looks over at me. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

What's wrong? What's wrong?! Only the fact that your breasts are practically falling out of that tank, the material is skin tight over your very taut stomach, and I'm going to have one hell of a time keeping my hands off of you. That's what's wrong!

"It's just, uh, it's gonna be cold out there. A storm might be coming in over the next few days and you're probably gonna want something a little… warmer."

Real smooth Arizona. Real smooth.

"So you want me to wear an extra layer of clothing so that I don't get cold during a storm that's not even happening tonight?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah that's about right." I look down and shake my head at myself. I should have just kept quiet. "Never mind, that shirt's fine. I'll be fine- it'll be fine. I'll just- meet you outside." I quickly leave the lounge and then lean heavily against the wall beside the door. Have I ever been this jittery before? I mean shit, the amount of unintelligent words spilling from my mouth is actually baffling me. A moment later, Lauren is beside me, hands in her jacket.

"You ready?" She asks, smirking at me.

"Yup. Let's go."

Ten minutes later, we're back to smiling again, laughing about her creepy stalkerish ways. I mention Bud Clement and she cackles about how bad his breath was. Not gonna lie, his breath made him smell like there was a dead body inside his mouth. It was disgusting. And yet here we are, laughing about it, with Lauren's hand ever so slightly grazing my elbow every few minutes. I don't think she's doing it intentionally, but I find the touch to be a mix between friendly and private.

We hear extremely loud music coming from inside of Joe's bar and I actually have to double-check the building before entering the front door. Joe's is never this loud.

"I thought we were going to a bar, not a club?" Lauren almost yells to me, eyeing the very busy atmosphere. There are people everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I've never seen Joe's so crowded, or so rowdy.

"It's not normally like this!" I yell back. As a few people roughly make their way past us, Lauren is shoved into me. She almost loses her balance and I wrap my arm around her waist to steady her. Once the small group passes us, Lauren looks at me. I feel the heat of her body closer to me than it has been all day. I don't want to let go. And somehow, I know she knows that.

Instead of pulling away, Lauren leans into me, and I feel my heartbeat increasing. What is she doing? And just as I swear she's about to kiss me… her head turns and she brings her lips to my ear.

"Thanks," she whispers. The sensation of her hot breath running over the sensitive skin of my ear causes goose bumps to erupt across my body.

"No problem," I say back, though I'm sure she can't hear me over the loud music. I force our bodies to separate, but I grab her hand and lead her to the bar, with her directly behind me. She's wearing heels, which makes her a few inches taller than me at the moment. I'll have to remember to wear heels tomorrow.

As we finally make it to the bar, I try to see if Joe is somewhere around, bartending. I finally see him at the far end of the room, but I signal down a closer bartender to order drinks. Waiting for him to finish his current order, I feel Lauren's hand still wrapped in mine, behind me. It actually hits me that I'm holding her hand, and my stomach feels weak. I shouldn't be enjoying the mere thought of holding another woman's hand, a woman's hand that is very distinctly not my wife's. But I do, I do enjoy it. Maybe it's just the sexuality that I'm enjoying, the sexuality that flows from Lauren like a spring. I've been missing out on sexuality recently. Callie and I have gotten back to being close… but not passionate. I wish that wasn't the case. But once you lose that spark, it's a challenge to get it back. Ignoring my thoughts, I continue holding Lauren's hand as I tug her just a bit closer to my back.

"What's your drink of choice?" I ask. She only grins at me. I should have known that could be taken the wrong way. "Well, either you tell me, or I'll pick one out for you."

"I trust you."

"Oh really? Well you shouldn't." Even I don't trust myself sometimes.

I turn back around, still not releasing her hand. I wonder how long I can allow us to play this game. She knows we can't actually do anything, be anything. She knows I'm married, which is really not the true issue for me. The issue now is my leg, and my rules. Regardless, I've more or less told Lauren that we can't do anything more than flirt, and she hasn't let up even once. So, it can be harmless right? The touching, the flirting, without following through. It can't actually do any damage, right? Whether or not that's true, I decide to let myself believe it. Because between the music filling my ears, the alcohol that's going to soon be in my stomach, and the delicious feeling of Lauren's hot, stimulating body pressed very tightly against my back… I'm going to choose to believe just about anything.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lauren, this is Dr Alex Karev. He's my star pupil." I introduce Lauren and Alex inside the crowded bar. We still haven't found a place to sit. Turns out, everyone in the nearby vicinity decided to come out this evening for a 'last night' of partying before the big storm hits, which explains the huge crowd and the loud music. "Alex, this is Dr Lauren Boswell, the craniofacial specialist assisting on Tyler Simms' case."

"Nice to meet you," Alex says as he briefly shakes Lauren's hand. We have to talk a little louder than normal due to the bass filling the room. "Hey," Alex says, looking at me. "Why Joe's? I thought we'd go somewhere else?"

"I didn't know it'd be this crazy until we got here," I respond.

"Well I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys need refills? No?" Alex quickly assesses our full glasses before heading to the bar.

"So he's your star pupil huh?" Lauren says, as our bodies stand a little too close together. We're keeping an eye on the tables though, hoping to snatch one if it becomes available.

"Definitely. He has a lot of talent and he's awesome with the kids."

"Awesome?" She smiles at me. "Well, if he's 'awesome,' then it must have something to do with you."

"Not really, I can't take credit for Alex anymore. He's all grown up and doing amazing things at the hospital."

"But what about before he was an Attending? I'm sure you had some sort of influence over him? I can imagine you were a great teacher." I meet her smile with a smirk of my own.

"Well, I may have had a few tricks up my sleeve… but eventually, Alex just sort of grew with Pediatrics. And now I can't picture him in any other field. It just suits him."

"I think it suits you, Pediatrics. You light up when you see the children, or at least you lit up when you saw Tyler this morning." I recall our early-morning meeting with the baby boy and the truth quietly spills from my mouth.

"I'm not sure it was just Tyler that I was lighting up about." I definitely catch Lauren's smile turn a little sly.

"Oh? And what else could have possibly encouraged your mood then? Could it have been the company?"

Our eyes connect and both of our lips form mischievous grins. Alex chooses this moment to return with his drink.

"Man it's crazy in here!" He wedges his way next to both Lauren and I. "I couldn't even get Joe's attention at the bar; I had to order from some halfwit that probably doesn't even know what he's doing!"

I watch as Alex literally jugs his glass of God-knows-what, before magically bringing up a second glass from his other hand. Apparently he ordered two drinks at once. That can't be good.

"Hey, are you alright?" I ask, giving him a once over.

"Whatever, I'm fine. I just need to drink. And that stupid bartender has no idea what he's doing with those drinks in his hands!"

"Alex, calm down, what's going on?" I glance over at Lauren, who is quietly observing the exchange between Alex and I.

"Ugh. I just-" Alex glances down for a second before looking back up. "I just saw Jo with Peckwell in the hospital and they were having some sort of fight. But it's not, like, my place to interrupt their little argument and try to defend her or something. So I just had to walk away. I had to walk away while I saw her yelling at him and him yelling at her. She looked hurt and pissed and just- shit, I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I always fall for the wrong chicks."

I'm quiet for a moment, not quite knowing how to respond. I feel for Alex. He's had a rough go of things recently. He takes another swig of his drink.

"I think you're allowed to talk to her, Alex. Just, maybe talk to her tomorrow, when things between them have calmed down a little? You have a right to talk to her, she's your intern, and at the very least, she's your friend. Right?" I gently squeeze his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. I don't want to think about it. It's just driving me nuts." Alex looks back at Lauren, as if he forgot she was there. "Hey, sorry about that. I totally interrupted your guys' conversation. What were you talking about?"

Lauren and I exchange a look. Hers is coy; mine is guilty.

"You, actually." I say.

"Right." Lauren agrees, smiling and shaking her head at me. "Arizona was just telling me that she really admires you. She thinks you're a great doctor."

"Hell yeah I am, she knows it." Alex finally breaks into a smile and nudges me with his elbow. We all laugh.

"Modesty isn't his strong suit," I chuckle, nudging Alex back and taking a sip of my own drink.

"What about you… Lauren, is it?" She nods at him. "How are you finding Seattle?"

"I like it a lot. It has quite a bit of," she pauses her answer to look at me. "Potential."

Alex subtly glances between us, obviously noticing the flirtatious tone in Lauren's voice, and the look I throw right back in her direction. He downs his second drink very quickly before hooking his arm in mine.

"Lauren, do you mind if I steal Arizona away for a second?"

"No, go ahead. I think I see a table opening up back there anyway." She gestures behind us. "I'll go grab it."

"Thanks," Alex says, successfully steering me to the opposite side of the room. When we stop moving, he drops his empty glass onto someone else's table and turns on me. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"What do you mean?" I'm confused.

"You're flirting with that doctor."

"So?"

"We're at Joe's! You can't flirt with someone here! What's wrong with you? You never flirt with women here."

"We're barely flirting Alex. She's just good company, really." I turn my head to seek out Lauren, only to find her sitting alone at a table in the far corner. Damn, even sitting alone, she looks incredibly alluring. Legs crossed, hair practically glowing. I want to be sitting at that table with her.

"I don't believe you." I look back at Alex with a small amount of annoyance.

"Well you don't have to believe me. Can we go back now?"

"No. Arizona, I'm serious." I only half listen to him as I glance back toward Lauren again. "Hey, look at me."

"Alex, relax. This place is crowded as hell, so no one can hear us. And Callie's probably at home by now. It's all good."

"It's not all good! Does Callie even know you're here?" Alex practically glowers at me. I take a calming breath and finally look him in the eye.

"Alex, I told you earlier that her and I have been disconnected recently. So I've been doing my own thing and she's been doing her own thing. She's responsible for grabbing Sofia from daycare today, and she won't mind that I'm out. It's fine. Everything's fine."

Alex is quiet for a few seconds as he studies me. He loses his frustrated expression and looks at me with sincerity.

"I thought you weren't really interested in sleeping around anymore?" He's quiet in saying this, and I barely hear him.

"I'm not sleeping with her. I haven't slept with anyone but Callie since… since before. And besides, I like her as a person, not a lover. I think she's… nice." Nice doesn't begin to cover it. 'Nice' is such a mundane word, and it doesn't come anywhere near describing anything that has to do with Lauren. But, in this instance, it will do.

"You seem a little too comfortable with flirting out in the open with her. You should be careful." Alex touches my arm. "If you're craving something, like you used to, just tell me and I'll cover for you. I don't want Callie finding out."

"I promise, there's nothing that needs covering. I'm not going to sleep with her. We're just two colleagues having a drink. Okay?" Very slowly, Alex nods his head. "Now, can we go back please?"

Alex leads the way to where Lauren is still sitting. Our eyes catch as I choose the seat opposite her. Alex sits beside me.

"Everything okay?" Lauren asks, comfortably holding her drink in hand.

"More or less," Alex mutters.

"Ignore him, everything's fine. Thanks for grabbing this table. I was beginning to think we'd never get to sit down!"

I laugh almost nervously, trying to break Lauren's attention from Alex and settle it back on me. Of course, she seems to like looking at me, which works in my favor. Hell, I like looking at her too. The simple movement of her fingers over her glass, the way she wipes away the condensation, it has me sort of hypnotized. It's easy to lose concentration on just about everything but her.

"No problem." Her green eyes meet my blue yet again. I take in her features. Warm smile, slightly reddened cheeks, intense gaze. I don't want to look away. And so I don't, not for the longest time.

As the hours pass, the sounds of the bar work their way into my ears while the three of us immerse ourselves in conversation. I hear the clinking of glasses, the constant chatter of voices mingling together. I hear the wind from outside surge in every time someone opens the door. The music reverberates and there are small groups of people dancing together throughout the room. There are also small groups such as ours, mostly sitting at tables, talking amongst themselves over the strong beat of the ever-changing songs. I barely look away from Lauren, although I make sure to glance at Alex every few moments, so as not to concern him with the connection he clearly sees taking place in front of him.

Lauren shares very little about herself with us, but I've at least gathered some small bits of information. From the way she talks, she seems to be an only child, if I'm correct. She's quite capable of dodging personal aspects of a question while answering the non-descript parts of it at the same time. I'm impressed with how she does it. Also, I've learned that Lauren can most definitely make me laugh. What's interesting to me is that her overall sensuality and attraction never fade as she causes me to smile until my cheeks hurt. Normally, I'm either attracted to someone physically, or mentally. But this woman, she has me pulling in two different directions at the same time. She's sexy as hell, and can cause a laugh to erupt from within me at the drop of a hat. She makes me feel lighthearted, at ease. And yet, even while saying that, I'm noticing the tightening in my stomach every time her eyes move to land on other areas of my body. In particular, when she glances down to my lips, or my neck, I know that the feeling she creates within my stomach is starting to spread. When Lauren's fingers settle on her chin, or slide along her jaw, I inadvertently watch the progression. I want to know what it would feel like to skim my own fingers along her face. Would she enjoy the sensation of my skin on hers? Would it cause her body to heat up as much as mine is at only the mere thought of it? I can only wonder.

"Arizona. Arizona!" Alex pushes at me, causing me to regrettably look away from Lauren's exquisite features.

"What?" I snap, turning to face him.

"Your phone. It's buzzing." I look down on the table to see that yes, my phone is very much buzzing. I stare at it with irritation. I don't want to be disrupted right now. I'm enjoying the vibe currently coursing between myself and the lovely woman sitting across from me. I've almost forgotten Alex's presence. "Well, are you going to answer it?"

I pull the phone closer to me and glance at the name on the screen before hitting the 'ignore' button.

"Why didn't you answer it?" Alex seems a little annoyed.

"Because I'm busy, and it wasn't important." I try to bypass Alex's question and turn to face Lauren.

"It wasn't important? It was your wife, Arizona!" I'm quiet at first. I give Lauren a look that says 'excuse me while I hit him over the head' and put my finger up in the air, asking for a moment. She silently nods and I directly turn to look at Alex. I lower my voice, in hopes of Lauren not hearing me.

"Alex," I become stern. "Drop it."

He glares back at me.

"No." I tilt my head and glare right back. "Arizona, you should have answered that phone call."

"It's none of your business."

"Yes it is!" He raises his voice, which is exactly what I didn't want to happen. "You two are having blatant eye sex. You might as well be doing it right here in the middle of the bar!"

"Alex!" I yell at him.

"Well it's true! You're not normally this stupid. Why here, huh? Why couldn't you just pick some other place, some other bar? Anyone could see you! Why are you just suddenly throwing your rules out the window?"

My eyes widen and I can't bear to look at Lauren. Alex is implying far too much.

"You've had too much to drink." It's true, Alex has been downing drinks three times faster than either Lauren or myself. I'm tipsy, sure, but he's wasted.

"Yes, I'm drunk, but you know I'm right. You should stop acting like a teenager and call Callie back." I narrow my eyes and shake my head.

"How about I call you a cab?" I grab my phone and begin to dial the local taxi company. Alex quickly grabs my phone and rips it from my hand before slamming it back down on the table.

"I'll get my own damn cab. But you-" Alex stands abruptly and almost loses his balance. I stand as well and grab him just before he's about to tumble. Once he's steady, he continues his sentence. "Either stop what you're doing right now, or treat her like the others. It's not worth risking your marriage, and you know it."

He jerks away from my steadying hand and very haphazardly makes his way through the still prominent crowd. I keep my eye on him until he leaves the bar. I don't want to look at Lauren, I really don't want to. She just heard some very private information about me, and I don't like it. I was loving the flow we'd created before, laughter and flirtation. It was exciting and fun. Now it's all but disappeared.

"You okay?" I hear Lauren's soft voice, which surprises me because the music is still quite loud. I hesitantly meet her gaze, which shows nothing but compassion and concern, perhaps mixed with a little curiosity. I sit back down.

"Yeah, sorry about that. He's normally a lot more levelheaded. I think he's just having a hard time with that girl at work."

I notice Lauren nod, and silence passes between us.

"Arizona?" She's very soft in speaking my name, almost calling me to her, drawing my eyes up to hers.

"Hmm?"

"We don't have to be here. We can go somewhere else."

And there it is. Lauren understood everything Alex said, and she's responding. She knows that I've been with other women, women other than my wife. More importantly, she's giving me the option to be with her in the same capacity. She's telling me, with so little words, that she's okay with me cheating on my wife and using her as just a one-night stand. What confuses me the most is the strange pang that shoots through me at the idea of only experiencing her for one night… only one, single, short night. I can't do that.

"No." We're still speaking quietly, and yet able to hear the other without any difficulty. As far as I'm concerned, the rest of the bar is gone. There's no one else in this room but Lauren, and myself. "I don't want that, not for us."

"Okay," her voices lingers, conveying her confusion.

"I like you too much for that." She smiles at me, white teeth on display, and despite the horrible tenseness that Alex just created, I'm able to easily smile back. "I really should get home. Callie, well, she's probably wondering where I am."

Lauren agrees and we stand at the same time. I finish my drink and place the glass next to her previously empty one. I gesture for her to walk ahead of me, toward the door. I wonder if Alex will still be outside when we leave. As the chilled air hits me, I savor the smell of moisture hovering nearby. Rain is on its way. I look around and don't see Alex anywhere. His cab must have already arrived.

"Do you live far from here?" Lauren asks me.

"No, only a short walk. It's really convenient for work."

"How about I walk you then?"

"You don't have to do that. It's really not that far." She grins.

"Arizona, don't make me say it, okay?"

"Say what, exactly?" She sighs.

"I don't want to say goodnight to you yet. So, just let me walk you. Please?" The warmth that invades my cheeks, my stomach, my thighs, it probably shouldn't surprise me. The things she says to me constantly turn my body inside out in the most delicious of ways. And yet, it does surprise me. In such a short amount of time, this woman has very intimately invaded my senses.

"This way." I point down the road and we begin to walk together. "Where are you staying the night?"

"The Archfield."

"But that's the opposite direction. And more than walking distance."

"It's okay, I'll just call for a cab once you're inside."

"If you say so."

We walk in easy silence for a while, until Lauren speaks up.

"So… Alex mentioned 'others.'" I stiffen, and she notices. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me. I just thought I'd ask."

Silence comes again for more than a few minutes. I don't regret my past actions. I don't feel guilty about them. What I do feel uneasy with is the concept of discussing my sex life with this woman that I'm obviously very attracted to. It's been a long time since I've cared about someone's opinion of me, other than my wife's. I don't want Lauren to not understand my decisions, my motives, and then judge me for them. My gut tells me to trust her though. My instincts have been wrong in the past, but I feel oddly strong about this. I don't think she'll judge me, at least not harshly, and for some unknown reason, I feel unusually compelled to open up to her. I guess, here goes nothing.

"There have been others."

"Other women?"

"Obviously."

"Well, it's not obvious. You could be attracted to men as well." I throw her a smirk.

"I'm not." She nods.

"I take it your wife doesn't know?"

"Definitely not."

We go quiet again.

"Are you unhappy?" Lauren asks. Her question confuses me.

"Unhappy? How so?"

"You know, in your marriage. Are you unhappy?"

"Lauren," I pause. "Don't take this the wrong way, please. But, I've known you for less than a day. This is kind of a deep topic to have right off the bat, don't you think?"

"I don't think it's that deep, actually." She looks at me and I glance back. She appears so at ease, so comfortable in her own skin, despite how awkward this conversation could be taken. Lauren continues, speaking slowly, her words almost literally spread out. I perceive this as her choosing her words properly. "It might not be as simple as 'yes, I'm happy' or 'no, I'm not' but I believe that people crave connections, emotions. I believe happiness only comes from being among others and creating memories. Whether those memories are short-lived or not, I don't think is the point. It's about taking advantage of what you have right in front of you, at any particular moment, and not regretting it. Basically, I think that human beings desire happiness for themselves and for all others, and achieving that happiness is the ultimate goal. If what makes you happy is experiencing sexual fluidity with different women, then I would hope that your partner would respect that, or at least try to understand it." We're in front of my apartment complex now, and Lauren follows me to the main entrance. She continues. "I don't mean to point fingers or anything like that. I just like the idea of you being happy, especially inside of your marriage. It's a strong link, the rapport between spouses. Sometimes I think it's the strongest link there is." I lean against the closed door and match Lauren's gaze. "So when I ask if you're happy, you don't have to answer. I just want you to know that I hope you are. Even in just a day, I think I've easily come to want good things for you. Is that a bad thing?"

"How could that be bad? I want good things for you too." I take in everything Lauren's just said as my eyes linger on her mouth. I watch as she softly bites her bottom lip. Throughout the entire day, I haven't seen Lauren bite her lip even once. "What's wrong?"

Lauren's brow furrows.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"You're biting your lip. I haven't seen you do that all day."

"Wow, you've been watching my mouth all day? That could say things, you know." I chuckle at this and she laughs back.

"I pay attention to a lot of things," I say softly.

"So do I."

We pause.

"So, what's wrong? Why were you biting your lip all of a sudden?" And there it is again, that sense that Lauren is nervous for some reason. Her eyes glance away and I think I catch the sight of her fingers fidgeting slightly before she consciously stills them.

Slowly, Lauren moves in close to me, maybe even a little closer than we were earlier at the crowded bar. Her apparent nervousness disappears, which amazes me. Gone is the fidgeting and the confident woman returns swiftly with a vengeance. Her gaze grips mine and I swear I couldn't look away if I tried. Her right hand moves up and she places her flat palm against the door, beside my chest. Her left hand is then free to wander as she brings it up toward my face. The very tip of her finger touches my cheek and she moves a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Without conscious thought, my eyes flutter closed. She is so unbelievably close to me. I can feel her hot breath barely touching my face, and I can grasp the faint scent of alcohol drifting from her lips. I hear a crack of thunder above us and suddenly my ears take in the sound of rain crashing against the pavement. I open my eyes and Lauren is mere inches from me. The rain hits her and her blonde locks begin to press against her forehead. Her eyes have never looked so green.

"I can be one of the 'others,'" she whispers. I don't know if any other words uttered on this earth have ever sounded so erotic. "I know you don't want to, I'm assuming it has something to do with the 'rules' Alex mentioned earlier. But I would really, really love to get to know you better, even if it's only for one night."

My. God.

Has temptation ever been so sweet? The smell of her, the sight of her, the sensation of her body so damn close to mine- I want this woman, and she wants me. I don't know what to say to her. I know what I want to say. I want to say 'Yes, take me to your hotel room. Yes, get to know me better. Hell, let _me_ get to know _you_ better. Yes!' That's what I want to say. But it absolutely cannot happen. Lauren is the very definition of forbidden. She knows me, much more than any other woman on the side has ever known me. She's met my colleagues, my friends. She knows about my wife and my marriage. She knows where I live. She knows some of the hardships I've gone through, the losses I've had to deal with, and still, she wants to take me to her room and make me forget about it all.

My rules are simple, and strict. Don't sleep with someone I work with. Don't sleep with someone my partner may somehow know. Don't exchange personal details. Don't become emotional. And if I follow Lauren to her bed, her temporary bed, I will have broken all of those rules. The worst rule, in my mind, is the last one: emotional involvement. I like Lauren. I mean, I really like her. She's kind and smart and funny. In only one day, she's made me laugh more than I have in months. She seems like a truly good person. All of this means that I absolutely cannot become physical with her. I can be friends with her, sure, that's allowed. But sex? No, it can't happen. The rules must be followed, or else my marriage could very well disintegrate. I have a daughter with Callie, and a very profound history. I can't throw all of that away. In spite of my extremely strong desire to say yes to Lauren and drown in everything that I've been wondering about her… I must say no.

But the words evade me.

Lauren doesn't move an inch. Her eyes take me in, and I let them. She studies my face like it's a mystery. Her gaze travels down my nose to my mouth. She looks for such a long time at my lips. I lick them, not really thinking about it. Lauren makes a soft sound then, a strangled exhale. It's a while before she allows her eyes to keep moving down. She takes in the sight of my jaw line, and then my neck. She drifts her head forward the smallest amount, and gently inhales. I watch her eyelids close. She smiles, and stills her body. I can't help but admire how beautiful she looks as water cascades down her face. I feel the water trailing down my own ears and neck, to land under my top. I would probably shiver from the cold liquid, but the heat emanating from Lauren's lithe body very easily prevents that from happening. With her eyes still closed, she leans in so that her lips are almost touching the outline of my ear. She whispers against me, and I swear I could live the rest of my life only listening to the sound of her raspy voice.

"My room number is 1205. Maybe you can visit me there before I leave town." And then, daintily, Lauren moves back and steps away. Our eyes connect and I don't think I could force a single word from my mouth. "Goodnight Arizona. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, she smiles at me. I don't smile back. I merely look at her with apprehension, mesmerized by her actions and her request. I watch her walk effortlessly back in the direction that we came, water pouring down all around her. In the distance, I see her pull out a cell phone and begin to make a call. I imagine she's hailing a ride back to her hotel. Her hotel. Damn, I wish I could join her there.

I close my eyes and calm myself. I wait until my heartbeat slows and my nerves have settled. Callie will be upstairs, upset with me for not answering her phone call earlier. She'll probably also wonder where I've been, and why I didn't tell her of my plans. I sigh, not wanting to face the responsibility that comes with meandering into our apartment. Nonetheless, I do just that. I enter the building, head up the elevator, and quietly walk through our blue door. Once inside, I immediately find myself missing Lauren, and the sensations that she was filling me with only seconds ago. Inside of this apartment, the emotions and feelings are so very different.

I turn on the lights and walk softly into the kitchen. I drink a glass of water and take some aspirin. I have a feeling I might wake up with a headache in the morning. Quietly, I peak my head into Sofia's bedroom. I don't see her nightlight on, which normally casts a gentle glow upon her face while she sleeps. Padding softly into the room, I allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness. What I see, or what I don't see, worries me. Sofia is not in her bed. I quickly enter the main bedroom to find it empty as well. My phone is on my ear within seconds, Callie's number selected. It rings and rings and finally, Callie's lethargic voice answers.

"Hi," she says, voice cracking from sleep.

"Callie, where are you? Where's Sofia? I came home and no one's here. There's no note or anything." I'm a little frantic, but I'm glad Callie is on the line, proving that there must be a reasonable explanation.

"I'm at the hospital. I had a long surgery so I couldn't pick up Sofia. Meredith offered to grab her and bring her to their place for a sleepover with Zola."

"What?" I have to steady myself, but I'm finding it difficult. "Why didn't you call me earlier to pick up Sofia myself?"

"I did call you." Callie's voice is resounding with irritation, and I think mine sounds just the same.

"No, you called me like 45 minutes ago. You did not call me when Sofia was ready to be picked up from daycare, at 6:30!"

"Arizona, don't even raise your voice at me. I tried getting a hold of you at work but someone on your floor said that you left early, before your shift was even over. You didn't call me to let me know. So clearly, you weren't too concerned about our daughter being picked up."

"How dare you," I seethe. "You and I agreed this morning that you would pick up Sofia today. I knew where she was supposed to be. My shift ended at 5:30, and I only left like five minutes early. If I'd known that you were going to be in surgery, you should have called my cell and told me."

"Why, so you could just ignore me like you did a little bit ago? And why did you have to leave early? What was so damn important that you had to leave the hospital before your shift was over, only to not come home until now, at almost 11 o'clock?" I hear Callie let out an exasperated sigh. "You know what's funny? I knew you didn't go home after your shift, and I knew that you wouldn't be home until late, because that's your profile now. You disappear from work, you barely spend any time with me or Sofia, and half the time you don't even care where our daughter is! What does that say about you, huh?"

"I can't even believe you." I'm tempted to hang up the phone, but I resist. "I went out for a drink with Alex, okay? There's nothing wrong with that Callie. You go out with your friends and I go out with mine, it's what we do. And it's my business when I come home, because I thought Sofia was here with you! You don't get to be angry at me for believing that she was safe at home with her other mother."

"You've been at a bar since 5:30? You've been drinking for five and a half hours? You're drunk, aren't you?" Callie doesn't seem impressed. I'm not very impressed with her either.

"I'm not drunk, I'm tipsy. And who are you to judge? I'm not on call, I didn't drive, and I thought Sofia would be fast asleep by now with her other, sober, mother nearby. So don't even comment on me drinking." I plop down on our bed and place my chin in my hand.

"Arizona, I'm angry at you. You didn't answer when I called and you went out drinking without even telling me."

"Well I'm angry at you too. You didn't inform me early enough that Sofia needed someone to pick her up from daycare."

"So you're not going to apologize?"

"Ha!" I huff. "Are you?"

The line is silent.

"I didn't think so." I shake my head. "Goodnight Callie."

I hang up the phone and toss it on the nightstand. I'm so angry I want to throw something, but obviously, I don't. I can't believe her. She makes me so angry sometimes.

Thirty minutes later, I'm showered and in bed. I feel my head pounding slightly. I set my alarm for 6am. I need to be in the hospital by 7. I want to have enough time to check in on Tyler and have him prepped for surgery while I re-examine his scans. Immediately, at the thought of Tyler, Lauren's face pops into my head. My lips form a smile. It really was fun chatting with her tonight, drinking with her. Not to mention, the walk back home… that was enjoyable too.

My mind wanders through the conversations that took place over the hours that we were together. I eventually remember Alex's warning, and his very loud exclamations against my flirting with Lauren so openly at Joe's. I recall Lauren's interested expression when I looked at her afterwards, mixed with concern and an obvious desire to make sure I was okay. It was nice, to have her so quickly invested in how I was feeling. I still can't believe that she knows about the plane crash and my missing limb. I can't wrap my head around the idea that she doesn't even care about the prosthetic. I don't know how someone can just not care.

I turn my head on my plush pillow and look at the nightstand where my cell phone is still lying. I gingerly pick it up and glance at the main screen. No message from Callie, which is predictable. And then, I remember Lauren's final whispers to me. She told me her room number. She invited me into her bed. My stomach twirls at the thought and my cheeks quickly heat up. I have to literally shove the images from my mind of all the things her and I could do together. The possibilities seem endless.

For the longest time, I simply stare down at my cell. My background photo is of Sofia and I. She's the most gorgeous little girl. I wish I could have seen her sleeping tonight, lost in the wonder of a dream filled slumber. But Callie took that away from me. After another few minutes of looking down at the photo, I use Google to find the main phone number for the Archfield Hotel. I don't think twice as I press the green button to connect our call. As I lift the phone to my ear, my hand begins to shake. What am I doing? What am I doing?

"Thank you for calling the Archfield Hotel. How may I help you?" A professional male voice comes across the line.

"Yes, can you connect me to room 1205 please?" I ask, and he politely does as I request.

Why am I calling Lauren's hotel room? What am I hoping to accomplish? What am I even going to say to her? I have no idea. The line connects to room 1205 and a moment later, I hear Lauren's scratchy voice answer.

"Hello?"

Oh shit! My body freezes, my mouth is stuck open with no words coming out, and my vocal chords refuse to cooperate.

"Hello?" Again, Lauren tries to answer the phone call, but I just can't respond. Why the hell can't I respond?! For a second, there is no sound, neither of us speaking or communicating in the slightest. And then-

"Arizona?" She whispers, and I think I might just die. The sound of my name falling from her mouth, from those luscious lips, is unfathomable. What does it mean, that my name was the first to come to mind? Was she thinking of me before I called? No, that can't be it. Of course she would logically think it's me calling though. I mean, I'm probably the only one who knows her phone number. Well, me and the Chief, and I'm sure Hunt wouldn't be calling her at nearly midnight. Or, I hope he wouldn't.

"I'm going to hang up now," I hear Lauren say softly into the phone. Come on, why can't I say a single damn word? But even if I could, what would I say anyway?

I hear the line disconnect, and the woeful tremor that rips through my stomach makes me feel sick. In mere hours, in less than a full day, this woman has gripped me in a fierce fashion. I wish Lauren hadn't hung up. I wish I could have said something, anything.

Already, I miss the sound of her voice.


End file.
